


Misty Memories

by xspike4evax



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-11-09 02:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: When Willow wakes up, her mind a blank, Buffy and Xander are positive someone has wiped Willow's memories on purpose. She doesn't remember her best friends, her girlfriend or the fact that she's a witch; and the one thing she says she does remember is a complete fantasy to everyone except Willow.





	1. Chapter 1

The carpet was rough against her cheek as she came back to consciousness. Willow groaned, pushing herself onto her knees, hand coming to rest against her head. Everything was spinning. 

Had she passed out? Collapsed? Fell asleep? 

Reaching out to a chest of drawers Willow used them to help steady herself as she got shakily to her feet. 

She looked around her when the room stopped spinning, a wave of panic washing over her; she had no idea where she was. She didn't recognise anything at all. 

Breath coming in short, sharp bursts, Willow lurched across the room to where a telephone sat on the bedside table. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the receiver and it swung on the cord knocking into her shin. Willow fumbled for it, bringing it to her ear, finger poised over the buttons. Then it hit her; she had no idea who to call. She didn't know anyone. 

Slamming the phone back into the cradle she hurried from the room. Tripping over her feet as she stumbled down the corridor Willow finally found herself at the front door. At least she assumed it was the front door. She yanked at the door handle but it was locked. Biting her lower lip Willow looked about her, back pressed against the door, heart beating a tattoo in her chest. There was a purse and some keys on the hallway table and she grabbed them, trying the door, relief flooding through her when the keys fit the lock.  
She almost jumped down the steps of the porch, backing up the driveway to look up at the house. It didn't look familiar to her. 

She ran out into the road, head jerking from side to side as she examined the street and houses around her, but she couldn't put a name to any of the neighbours or even recall the name of the street she was in. 

For a moment she considered knocking on a neighbours door and asking for help, but she didn't know who to turn to. She didn't know what to say to them. 

Shivering, with no idea where she was going Willow headed out of the street at a light run, hoping something would click inside her head. 

A short while later Willow found herself in town. She passed by a bar the sign above the door telling her the place was called The Bronze; but it rang no bells for her. People were milling about outside the bar, but she didn't recognise any of them. No-one seemed to recognise her either. 

A sudden, terrifying thought occurred to her; she had no idea what she looked like. Willow went to the nearest store window, unsure as to what she would see. Panic stricken green eyes stared back at her, set in a pale face framed with fiery red hair. Fighting back tears she touched the face with light fingertips, the refection was a stranger. 

Waving a hand towards the window in a sharp, dismissive movement, Willow turned away, hurrying down the street away from the half familiar stranger who looked terrified beyond words. She had a sudden mental image of herself running and stumbling about forever with no-one to help her. There must be someone in the world who would be looking for her. Dread plucked at her heart strings, if there was someone looking for her, how would she know? How would she recognise them? 

Finally, she came upon the police station. Willow paused and stared at the building with its windows bright with warm, welcoming light. She let out a breath, eyes closing for a moment as she clenched her hands together, and then she hurried to the big double doors. 

XxX

Xander checked his watch with sigh. "Where's Willow? She should have been here by now. We're going to miss the movie if she doesn't hurry." 

Buffy frowned and glanced at the back door. "Of all the times for Willow to be late. We never get a night off."

"Can't we just go without her?" Anya asked.

"Of course not, all of us are going for a night out and that's that," Buffy said firmly. 

The phone suddenly trilled and Buffy got up from the sofa. "I bet that's Willow." 

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Dawn appeared. "I'll get it." She snatched up the phone. "Hello? Yes, yes she's here. Hold on a moment please." Eyes wide, Dawn held out the phone towards Buffy. "It's the police for you."

Buffy blinked. "The police? Why?" 

Dawn shook her head. "They didn't say."

Buffy took the phone, her throat constricting in panic. "Hello? This is Buffy Summers." She paused, listening, eyes growing round her mouth popping open. "Yes, yes I know who that is. That's Willow Rosenberg, she's my best friend. Yes, yes she lives here with me. What's happened? Where's Willow?" Buffy listened, nodding along to the deep voice on the other end of the phone. "Yes, alright, I'll be right there. Thank you, goodbye."

She turned, smacking straight into Xander who was hovering behind her. Buffy made a humph sound, retreating from Xander's chest. 

"What's going on?" Xander demanded. "What's wrong with Willow?" 

Buffy shook her head. "They didn't say. All I know is she's at the police station. For some reason they described her to me and asked me to identify her over the phone. This address is on her driver's license so they rang here. That's weird, right? I mean, why wouldn't Willow just give them this number?" 

"I don't know." Xander frowned and scratched the back of his neck. "We should head down there, right?" 

"Of course," Buffy agreed. "Tara you come with us, Anya will you take Dawn to The Magic Box and let Giles know what's happened? We'll meet you there later." 

"Yeah, when we get Will's out of the slammer," Xander said, a sudden grin crossing his face. 

"That's not fair," Dawn exclaimed. "I want to see Willow. I want to help if she's in trouble." 

"She's not in trouble," Tara said quickly, biting her lower lip for a moment. "It's Willow. She can't be in trouble with the police. Maybe, um," she trailed off and shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know why she'd be at the police station." 

"Well, let's go and find out." Xander strode towards the door with Anya trailing behind him, gesturing to Dawn to hurry. 

Xander almost broke the sound barrier driving through town, his anxiety evident in the way he clutched the steering wheel and it transferred itself to both Buffy and Tara. Buffy fidgeted in the passenger seat and Tara took calming breaths from the back seat which began to grate on Buffy's nerves. 

Pulling into a parking space just outside the police station Xander glanced around at the police cars. "I hope I haven't taken someone's parking space. Like a Detective or something. I don't want a ticket or come out and find my car towed or something. You'd think they'd have visitor parking spaces, wouldn't you?"

Buffy let out a sigh. "Shut up, Xander." 

She led the way into the station to the front desk and announced herself to the policeman standing there, handing over her identification. 

"Oh yes, they're expecting you, Miss Summers. She's in with Detective Hess. Come this way." 

"It's alright if my friends come, isn't it? We're all here for Willow." 

"The more the better," said the policeman. 

Buffy's forehead wrinkled. She found it an odd thing to say, like he had deliberately not used the proper phrase of "the more the merrier". With Xander and Tara behind her, Buffy followed the policeman through a glass door and down a corridor to a door on the far left. He knocked once and poked his head around the door. 

"Miss Summers is here, Sir." 

"Thank you. Show her in." 

The policeman stepped aside and Buffy entered the room, a wave of relief washing over her to see Willow sitting at a wooden table. The detective was watching Willow carefully and a feeling of unease crept along Buffy's spine. 

"Wills, are you ok?" Xander pushed Buffy out of the way stepping towards Willow. 

Willow's chair scraped along the floor as she stood up, hand outstretched as though warding Xander off. "No. Stop. I don't know this person."

"Huh?" Xander paused and stared at his best friend in disbelief. "It's me, Wills. Xander. Are you alright?" 

Detective Hess closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. "I was hoping she'd remember her friends." 

"Remember?" Tara echoed. "What do you mean, remember?" 

"She came in here earlier this evening terrified out of her mind. Don't blame her really. I'd probably be terrified if I didn't know who I was or if I didn't remember a single thing from my life."

"Willow," Buffy took a tentative step forward. "Do you remember me? It's Buffy, I'm Buffy. Remember?" 

"No," Willow said sharply. "I don't remember you." She looked appealingly at the detective. "I don't know them." 

"Oh you do," Xander insisted. "It's me. Xander. You're best friend in the whole world. I've been your best friend since kindergarten when you were crying because you broke the yellow crayon, remember?" 

Buffy exchanged a glance with Tara, she could see the other girl shared her disappointment that the only reaction to Xander's story was Willow looking at Xander as though he were completely mad. 

"What happened to her?" Tara asked.

"She doesn't know," said Detective Hess. "She doesn't appear to be disorientated or hurt in any way. Has she had an accident of some kind? Does she suffer from short term memory loss?" 

Buffy shook her head. "No to both of those. Well, I mean, I haven't seen her for a few hours, but she was fine then. I guess maybe she could have had an accident since I last saw her. It's possible, right?" 

Tara looked dubious. "I suppose." 

"We are who we say we are," Xander said fishing his wallet from his pocket. He flipped it open to show a picture of himself, Buffy and Willow taken at school. "See. That's us there."   
"Are we allowed to take her home?" Tara asked. "She doesn't have to stay here, does she?" 

Willow huffed. "I'm standing right here. You might want to ask me if I even want to go with you." Still, she took the offered wallet from Xander, staring hard at the picture a feeling of frustration welling inside her when no memory stirred. 

It took some persuading from Buffy, but eventually it was decided that as Buffy could prove who she was, she could take Willow home. 

Willow listened to the exchange between Detective Hess and the people who kept staring at her with worried eyes and puckered foreheads. She didn't know them. Nothing about them was familiar even though it was evident that they knew her. She didn't really want to leave the safety of the police station with total strangers, but on the other hand, she knew she couldn't stay there indefinitely and maybe the Detective was right and going home with her friends, or alleged friends, would spark some memories. 

Willow submitted to being led to the car.

"Why don't you sit up front, sweetie?" Tara suggested. "You might feel less crowded that way, being in a small space with people you don't remember."

Willow didn't argue the point, her lips pursing at the soft endearment. It rolled quite naturally off the other girls tongue. She found she still felt crowded by the way Xander get glancing over at her.Sshe could feel him willing her to recognise him. 

Xander pulled up outside The Magic Box. He turned hopeful eyes to Willow. "You remember this place, though, right?" 

"Should I?" 

"Well yeah, it's The Magic Box and you're..." 

"You like it here," Tara interrupted quickly. "Why don't you go on inside, Willow. It might jog your memory." 

Standing on the sidewalk Willow gave the shop the once over, a doubtful look creeping across her face. "It looks weird." 

"Some people think so," Tara said. 

"But not you," Xander insisted "You're..."

"Open minded about things," Tara said. 

Willow shrugged and pushed open the door, looking up as the little bell jangled announcing her entrance.

Xander scowled at Tara. "Why do you keep interrupting me?" 

"I don't think Willow knows she's a witch," Tara said softly. "She doesn't remember us or anything abut her life. I don't want to give her a shock or overwhelm her with too much at once." 

Buffy nodded. "I think Tara's right, Xan. Let's not freak Willow out any more than she already is. Do you think it might be magic, Tara? Do you think someone or something did this to Wills, to make her forget she's a witch?" 

"It's possible," Tara said. "We probably shouldn't rule anything out at this point." 

"I'll get Giles to hit the books," Buffy said, heading into the store. Her hopes disappeared a little more when she saw Willow with her hands on her hips flatly denying ever having set eyes on Dawn. 

Giles looked up as Buffy entered. "What's happened?" 

"We aren't sure," Buffy admitted. She took a seat at the table and explained what had happened at the police station. 

"This must be awful for you," Tara said sympathetically, touching Willow's arm lightly. 

Willow pulled back, noticing the flash of pain in Tara's eyes. She looked around the little store, her nose wrinkling at the odd smells of candles and incense. The whole place felt dark and pokey and completely unfamiliar. Willow wanted to cry. Her mind was like a dark abyss and she longed for just the tiniest ray of light to break through. 

"Is nothing familiar?" Giles asked softly. 

"No. It just makes me feel all ooky." 

Buffy figured Tara was right, Willow had no idea that she was a witch. It really made her feel that Willow's memories had been wiped on purpose. 

The bell above the door jangled again and they turned as one to see Spike enter the store. A joyous sound left Willow and she hurtled across the room to him. Before Spike had time to even glance around the room his arms were full of Willow, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck. 

"Oh, Spike. Spike, you're here." 

Spike didn't have the chance to form a response. Willow's lips were on his, warm and soft and desperate. There was a zing in Spike's gut and his eyes closed in spite of his surprise, fingers flexing against the small of Willow's back. 

She pulled back, rocking back from her toes on to her heels. Her arms loosened around his neck but she didn't let him go, slipping an arm around his waist instead. 

Spike stared at her as she smiled up at him, fingers touching lightly to his cheek. "Ah, you wanna clue a bloke in, Red?"

"What the hell!" Xander exclaimed. 

Willow snuggled into Spike's side. "It's alright. Everything is going to be alright now. I remember." 

"Remember?" Spike echoed, brow furrowing as he took in the mixture of emotions around him from complete disgust warring with excitement from Xander to confusion from Dawn, worry from Giles, amusement from Anya and hope from Tara and Buffy. He'd quite clearly walked into the middle of some sort of problem. 

"Willow," Tara spoke slowly. "Do you remember Spike?"

"Of course I do," Willow's smile deepened. "I'd hardly forget my own husband."


	2. Chapter 2

"Husband!" Xander squeaked. "Husband! Did everyone else hear that?" 

Giles sank down into the nearest chair. "Dear Lord." 

Husband! Spike stared incredulously at Willow. What the hell had he walked in on? How could Willow possibly think they were married? And why couldn't Buffy look at him the way Willow was right now, as though he were the very centre of her world. 

"Someone wanna explain?" He glared at the confused faces around him. 

"Something's happened to Willow," Dawn began. "She doesn't remember anything or anyone." 

Spike looked at Willow again and he saw it clearly, the utter relief at his presence. He saw the way her eyes caressed his face. He felt the way her fingers dug into his back, holding on tight as though she were afraid he'd go up in smoke. 

"Except you, it would seem," Giles added. 

"Not exactly," Buffy put in. "She's not remembering exactly right." 

Spike's jaw ticked when Willow touched his cheek again, trailing a soft finger along his cheek bone. She didn't appear to be listening to the others, her entire focus was on him, drinking him in, almost devouring him. 

"Spike," Xander groaned. "Why does she remember Spike and not me?" 

"This is a good thing, Xander," Tara said, the worry lifting slightly from her face. "If Willow can remember Spike it must mean that her memories are still there somewhere, they haven't been wiped completely." 

Buffy brightened. "Oh, that is good." 

"There are plenty of memory spells out there," Anya said. "We just have to find the right one to unlock Willow's memories." 

"And figure out why and how this happened in the first place," Buffy said. "I'm thinking a new Big Bad."

"Me too," Xander agreed.

"It's possible," Giles admitted.

"Someone or something who wanted to take Willow out of the game," Dawn said. 

Spike listened intently to the conversation going on around him, he agreed with Glinda, if Willow remembered him, albeit not in the correct way, at least there was hope her other memories were sitting quietly beneath the surface waiting to be unlocked. 

A thumb nestling at the corner of his mouth distracted Spike and his eyes flickered again to Willow. She traced his bottom lip, green eyes flaring so hotly his mouth dropped open in shock. 

"I'm glad you're here, Spike." She spoke softly, voice pitched low, for his ears only. And the way she said his name, like the caress of velvet over bare skin. "I don't know any of them. I don't like it."

Fear crept into her voice and Spike found himself rubbing her arm comfortingly. "It'll be alright. They'll figure out a way to reverse what's happened." 

"They keep staring at me. They expecting me to know them,and I don't." Her voice cracked and she pressed her face into his shoulder, arms tightening around him even more. 

He stroked her hair absently, he had no words of comfort to offer. Her friends obviously knew just as much as he did, which was bugger all at the moment. He had a sudden flash back of him pressing his face into her neck and shoulder, crying and moaning over Drusilla and he couldn't help being impressed with how Willow was dealing with the situation. She was frightened, but she wasn't breaking down into hysterics. She was conducting herself much better than he did in an emotional crisis.   
Spike glanced up through his lashes searching for Buffy, hoping she was seeing how well he was taking care of her best friend. A bit of gratitude from her would at least be a start in getting her to like him and eventually love him. The look of utter horror on her face at his declaration of love was probably no less than he should have expected, but it still hurt. 

Buffy wasn't actually looking at him, she was watching Willow, biting on her lower lip. She took a step forward but then seemed to reconsider and let out a sigh, a resigned look crossing her face. 

Giles stood up and made his way to the stairs. "Perhaps Willow, you should go home, see if another familiar place can jog your memory." 

"Oh yes," Xander nodded. "I'll take you, Wills." 

Willow nodded. "Alright. That makes sense. Is it far, Spike?" 

Xander spluttered, mouth opening to protest but Giles spoke first. "Anya, would you stay and help me please. As you say, there are plenty of memory spells out there. And Dawn, I'd like your help too." 

"But," Dawn pouted. "I want to go with Willow." 

"Yes, I know," Giles soothed, "But please, stay here. I don't wish to upset you, Dawn, but you know memories of you were planted in all of us and I'm concerned as to how those memories may affect Willow's own memories, do you understand?" 

Dawn glanced at Willow and nodded. "Yes. I understand. Pretend memories might complicate things. I'll stay and help. I want Willow back as soon as possible." 

Giles smiled and patted her shoulder. "Sometimes I think we forget you're growing up." 

"Why does Spike have to go?" Xander grumbled.

"Xander please don't disrupt Willow's reality of Spike," Tara begged in a hushed voice, keeping an eye on Willow to ensure she didn't overhear them. "If you take Spike away from her now it might make things worse. "Imagine how Willow must be feeling. It must be terrible not to know who you are or know anyone around you. If you tell her the truth about Spike, the one person she does remember will be snatched away from her and she'll be truly alone in a world surrounded by strangers."

Understanding came to Xander's eyes, love for Willow so much stronger than his dislike of Spike. "You're right, Tara. I won't say anything. I can't stand the idea of Willow being all alone and scared. Even Spike is better for her than that." 

Still keeping her voice low, knowing Spike could hear her, Tara said, "Please, Spike. Please go along with her for now."

Spike gave Tara a short nod of agreement. Looking after Buffy's best friend could only integrate him into Buffy's good books. 

"Come along, pet. Let's get movin'."

Willow's hand slid into his, small and warm and soft, fingers curling and anchoring themselves to his. There was a tremor in her body, not visible when looking at her, but Spike could feel it against his arm as she pressed in close to him and her other hand closed over the top of their joined fingers as if to help steady herself. 

The walk to the Summers house was a painful experience. Xander and Buffy kept talking, one after the other throwing stories and anecdotes at Willow, watching her hopefully, waiting for her to remember. Their disappointment evident when she didn't. And with each new story Willow became even more agitated when her mind refused to cooperate and allow her to recall the incident for herself. She fell silent after a while, sinking closer to Spike and in the end Tara tactfully suggested they not overwhelm Willow and allow her time to think about things.

When they finally arrived at the house Willow paused, standing on the sidewalk she stared at the house willing something, even a sliver or a shadow of a memory to stir. But nothing did. 

"Come on," Xander forced a note of cheerfulness into his voice. "Maybe being inside will help." 

Willow kept her hold on Spike, taking him with her through the kitchen and wandering from one room to the other, Buffy, Tara and Xander following behind them.   
Willow paused in the dining room, let her hand run over the smooth surface of the table. She closed her eyes to stem the tears, gritting her teeth and shaking her head. "No. No, this isn't my house. I don't live here. I don't remember it!" 

"You do live here," Buffy promised. "Why don't you go up and look at your room? Why don't you try to sleep? Maybe things will be back to normal when you wake up?" 

"I'm not tired, Bunny," Willow snapped. 

"Your mother calls me that. Your mother calls me Bunny." Buffy turned excitedly to Tara. "Do you think it's a sign of remembering?" 

"No it's not!" Willow exclaimed exasperated. "I thought you said that was your name."

Buffy's smile disappeared instantly. "No, it's Buffy. I'm Buffy." 

Spike felt for the little witch. He could hear what her friends couldn't; the frantic beat of her heart telling him she was balancing on the precipice of panic and was ready to fall over any moment. There was tension in her body, muscles pulled taunt and her nails were leaving little half moons on the back of his hand. 

Willow managed to keep control of her spiralling emotions. She took a deep breath. "Which is our room, Spike?" 

"He doesn't live here." As soon as the words left his mouth Xander knew he had made a mistake by the soft groan from Tara and the way Willow's eyebrows rushed together in a frown.

"Well, then I can't live here." 

"Separated." Xander said loudly. "You're separated."

Tara gave another little groan, Buffy sighed and even Spike rolled his eyes. 

"I don't believe you!" Willow's voice rose angrily. "I might not be able to remember anything but there's nothing wrong with my feelings." Her free hand came to rest over her heart, her voice beginning to shake. "I know how I feel. I know what I feel for Spike and I wouldn’t leave him."

Buffy glared at Xander. "You had to talk, didn't you?"

"It's alright," Tara kept her voice calm and steady. It hurt to see Willow cling so fiercely to Spike, to declare her feelings for him so vehemently. But seeing Willow so distressed and frightened hurt more. She didn't want to think of Willow shut off from the world around her without one person or one memory to hold on to. And if for some unfathomable reason Spike was the link between Willow's world and reality then Tara was willing to say and do whatever she had to in order to keep Willow happy and keep the bridge between Willow's two sets of memories intact. 

"Why don't you go to your parents house, Willow? You've spent more time there than anywhere, it might help you."

Willow had no idea where her parents home was, but she was willing to go there and see what happened. Besides, she wanted to get out of this house and away from these three people who refused to take their eyes off her. 

"Will you take me home, Spike?" 

"I'll take you, pet." 

Buffy's eyes caught Spike's as he passed her. "I'm letting her go because she wants to go. Because I think it's best for her. Being here is only upsetting her. But I'm warning you, Spike, you'd better not let anything happen to her."

"Nothing's gonna 'appen to her on my watch."

Willow didn't look back as she left the house. Breathing deeply the cool night air she had a sudden feeling of being free. Resting her head against Spike's shoulder she allowed him to lead the way towards her parents home. Away from the ever watching Buffy, Xander and Tara, Willow was able to think a little more clearly. 

"I think I know where we're going. I think I woke up there. When I was running out of the house I saw photographs on the wall of a little girl with red pigtails. At the time I didn't link those pictures with myself, not remembering what I looked like at the time."

Spike stared at her in disbelief. True he hadn't seen his own face in over a century, but he still remembered it. "You didn't remember what you looked like?"

Willow shook her head. "I didn't remember anything at all. I didn't even remember you first off. Not until you walked through the door and then it hit me. I remembered you." 

"But not your friends? Not Glin... Tara? Nothin' at all?" 

"Nothing."

"The Watcher'll figure somethin' out, pet. He usually does."

"Watcher? What do you mean?"

He stopped walking so abruptly that Willow didn't realise he'd stopped and ended up stumbling as her hand in his jerked her backwards. "You don't know about Watcher's and Slayers?" 

She gave him a blank look as she searched her mind for meanings to the words, coming up empty. "Should it mean something to me?" 

"I'll explain it to you later, once we're inside. It's a bit of a story." 

She accepted his response and Spike wondered at her mind which couldn't recall her best friends or girlfriend, which had no concept of her life with a Slayer and a Watcher but remembered him in the most bizarre way. 

When they arrived at her parent's house Willow was almost relieved to be there and see something other than Spike which was familiar, even if it was only because she had been there earlier that evening. But it was her old home, the pictures on the wall told her that and Willow felt her fear leaving her as she mounted the porch steps, Spike's hand in hers giving her strength. 

"Let's go in, Spike." 

"After you, pet." 

Her grip on his hand relaxed as she walked through the door and wandered into the living room, but she still didn't let him go. In the corner of the living room was a sideboard and on top of the sideboard on a silver platter stood bottles of brandy, whiskey and gin with glasses stacked alongside them. 

Willow pointed at the bottles. "You like whiskey." 

Spike nodded. "I do." 

"Would you like a drink, Spike?" 

"Guess I could use one." 

She released his hand and Spike flopped down on the sofa as Willow poured him a glass of whiskey. "I don't drink, do I?" 

It was more of a statement even though she posed it as a question.

"No, you don't. Wouldn't blame ya if you felt you needed one tonight." 

Her fingers ran over the smooth glass of the bottles but she turned away from them. "No. I want to keep a clear head. Although, I don't know if there's much point to that. Here you are." 

Spike accepted the glass and she took a seat next to him, so close to him he could feel the warmth of her through his jeans where her leg pressed against his. "You just gotta give it time, love." 

"I guess." 

Her hand dropped to rest on his knee, fingers squeezing every now and then as though to reassure herself he was still sitting there. He watched her as she looked around the room, gaze lingering on ornaments and photographs and pictures, eyes blank, the furrows of her brow growing deeper. 

"Spike, we don't live here, do we? There's no photographs of us. Are we between places?"

"Somethin' like that," Spike agreed. "Willow, what do you remember about me? Do you know what I am?" 

"Yes, I remember that you're a vampire, Spike. I'm hardly going to forget something so important about you. Will you...." she passed her hand over her face and Spike let his face change, bringing out the face of the demon.

Reaching out she brushed her fingers across his forehead, smoothing the ridges gently while the fingers of her other hand went to search about her throat. "Do you bite me, Spike?" she asked softly. 

He answered her honestly through the tightening of his gut. "Love nothin' more than to sink my fangs into you. But I can’t, remember, because of the chip."

"Chip? What chip?" 

"Bunch of army commandos stuck a soddin' micro chip in my head..."

"Oh, oh yes. Yes I remember." Her hand went to her head. "They captured you, held you prisoner and experimented on you. You were starving. You couldn't feed yourself. They left you vulnerable." 

The anguish in her voice, the hot distress in her eyes startled Spike. His sharp demonic mind spun quickly; when opportunity knocked Spike was always willing to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's awful, Spike. What they did. It's all wrong. It's not right. It's not human."

"There now." He soothed her as she leant into him, arms curling around his neck as she pressed her face to his shoulder. Her compassion, rather than irritate him, was like a balm to his wounded spirit. It had been so long since anyone had given a damn about him. And in her own way, Willow had always cared. 

Cupping his face she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "We'll fix it, won't we, Spike?"

His lips curled into a smile. "I'm sure a smart little witch like you can figure somethin' out." 

"I'm sure we can... witch? What do you mean?" 

Spike's hopes sank. "You don't remember." 

Before she could respond her stomach grumbled loudly and Spike laughed. Willow patted her stomach. "Better find something to eat." 

Spike watched her leave the room, pause in the doorway and look around before spotting the kitchen. The light flooded the hallway and he heard cupboard doors opening and closing. So far as he was aware the house had been empty for a while. He didn't image there would be any food in the house. 

Willow reappeared and gave a little sigh. "I'll have to do a shop tomorrow. There's nothing here at all. Not even any milk." 

"How about we order pizza, hum?" 

"And you can explain everything to me. You know, what you said about a Slayer and a Watcher and this witch business." She glanced at a nearby clock. "It's getting late. I think I'll have a shower before the pizza gets here." 

Spike crossed the room and picked up the phone and the phone book sitting on the shelf beneath it. Pointless asking her for the number of the pizza place the Scooby's frequented. He watched her leave, head moving from side to side as she made her way through the house. Another wave of pity washed over him. He wouldn't like to go through something like this, Willow was handling it much better than he probably would. 

After he placed the pizza order, Spike left the living room to find Willow's room. He knew a demon who was able to do create photographs of anything. All he needed was a fairly recent photograph of Willow and within twenty four hours he'd have an instant wedding photograph. It would calm Willow down and help to steer her in the right direction; to do all she could to help her beloved husband get rid of his chip. 

Willow had evidently found the bathroom, he could hear the rush of the shower. A door on his left stood open and even though she hadn't lived here for a long time, the room had been Willow's long enough that her scent was a part of it and Spike figured it was her bedroom. He hit the light switch as he stood in the doorway and stared at the triangle of candles set out on the floor. In the middle was a bowl, which, on closer inspection, Spike found to be empty.

He frowned. Were her friends right, had another witch or demon done this to Willow? Or, had Willow done a spell? Had she done this to herself? 

Knowing asking her would be useless, and not wanting to upset her any more than she already had been. Spike took up the phone from the bedside table and dialled the Watcher's apartment. 

"Hello?" 

"Got a bit of information for ya, Watcher." 

"What is it, Spike?" 

Spike rolled his eyes, he could almost hear the Watcher sitting up straighter, could imagine him reaching for a pen and paper to make his endless notes. He told Giles about the candles and the bowl.

"I see. Any ingredients around?" 

"Nothin'. No spell book either." 

"She may have memorised the spell of course and it went wrong." 

He had been a victim of Willow's botched spell's himself, but Spike had a sudden sense of annoyance that the Watcher automatically put the blame with Willow. "Or she could have been settin' up a spell to block one that was comin' at her." 

There was a beat before Giles spoke. "Well, yes, that is possible." 

"She doesn't remember she's a witch." 

"Then maybe Dawn was right and there is someone or something in town who wants to obstruct Willow's magic." 

"Better get researchin' hadn't ya." 

"Yes," Giles replied tightly. "Keep me updated, Spike." 

Spike hung up and made a face at the phone. Bloody Watcher ordering him about. 

He tidied away the candles and the bowl just as Willow appeared wrapped up in a fluffy bath towel, her skin pink from the heat of the water and her hair sticking damply to her neck and shoulders. Spike licked his lower lip in appreciation of the picture she made. Then he noticed the way her mouth dipped down at the corners. 

"What's wrong?" 

She held up her left hand. "I lost my wedding ring."

"Don't worry about it. You probably took it off not to lose it an’ you just can't remember right now what you did with it. It'll turn up." 

She nodded and smiled at him. "You're right, Spike." 

Crossing the room Willow slid her arms around his waist, her hands sliding up his back beneath his coat to rest against his shoulder blades as she pressed in close to him, swung up on her tip toes and kissed him. 

She was warm, and smelt like vanilla and Willow. Spike's eyes drifted shut absorbing it all for a few moments as his hands came to rest on her waist, rubbing the towel between thumb and forefinger. Just a tuck. Just one little tuck beneath her arm the only thing holding the towel in place. All he had to do was tug, not even hard, just a little tug and the towel would fall and it would be just Willow. Warm, willing Willow. 

He wanted to take what she was offering. He wanted to indulge in what she was willing to give and so obviously wanted from him. But Spike knew he couldn't. When Willow's memories returned she'd hate him. She might tell Buffy and bedding a girls best friend was a sure fire way of destroying all hope of anything ever happening with that girl. Buffy would hate him. She'd never look at him as someone she could love. She'd probably stake him for taking advantage of her best friend. 

Catching hold of her wrists Spike managed to pry Willow away from him. She gave him a quizzical look. "Something wrong?" 

"Um..." 

Pain flashed across her face and her bottom lip quivered. "I don't understand.... Spike, I.... don't you want me?" 

"That's not exactly it," Spike admitted. Bloody hell, he wasn't made of stone and her eyes were bright and hot with a hunger he felt stirring his own body. 

Willow moved into his body again, her hands pushing against his, reaching for him again; there was an ache in her very bones for him. He didn't release her, instead he stepped back, putting a little distance between them and Willow felt a pinch in her heart. "Is this about the separation Xander mentioned? Is that why you don't want me?" 

"Pet, I can honestly tell you we aren't separated," Spike assured her. She tried to reach for him again and Spike and the oddest image of himself trying to fight off her advances all night. "Willow, do you remember our weddin'?" 

Willow stilled. "Not all of it," she admitted. "Just bits and pieces of us together. Are you mad?"

"Course not, just tyin' to get an idea about your memories is all. Not your fault you can't remember things, is it?" Trying to appease her Spike kissed her fingers lightly. "Do you remember us together? In bed together I mean?" 

"Oh yes," she breathed, pulling her hands free and grasping the front of his t-shirt. "I couldn't ever forget what it's like being with you. It's wonderful between us, it couldn’t be anything else when I love you this much. Out of everything and everyone in the world it's only you I can remember. That has to mean something."

Spike drew her to him, cradling her against his chest, stroking her hair lightly. "I'm sure it does mean somethin', love." 

"Then why...?" 

The sound of a knock of the door saved Spike from having to come up with a response to a question he really wasn’t sure how to answer. How was he supposed to explain to her sex between them wasn’t a good idea? "Pizza's 'ere. Why don't you get changed an' come an' have something to eat an' I'll tell you all about Slayer's and Watcher's." 

Willow nodded. "Yes, alright, Spike." 

"Good girl." He dropped a kiss on her forehead to try and comfort her and went off to answer the front door. 

Spike set the pizza on the coffee table and brought a plate and a glass of water from the kitchen. Rubbing at his forehead he took a seat on the sofa feeling suddenly drained. Willow appeared in an over sized t-shirt and Spike stifled a groan at the expanse of creamy legs on display. Somehow it suited her more than fancy lace and silk. It was so completely Willow it was alluring. She took a seat beside him swinging her legs up into his lap. It was an easy, natural gesture and Spike felt a strange sense of longing, not for sex or passion, but for this happy, contented existence. It reminded him of his time with Dru. 

Willow put a slice of pizza on a plate and settled into the sofa. "Alright, I'm listening. What's all this about me being a witch?" 

Spike stared at her for a long moment wondering where to begin. He decided to just jump right into it and start with Buffy. Everything in their lives seemed to begin with Buffy anyway. He hadn't talked for so long in ages, but once he started Spike couldn't seem to stop, as he urgently willed her to remember. He told her all about Buffy's sacred duty and how she had sworn to help and he told her about the Watcher's Council and about various demons they had faced together but he could tell by the astounded expression on her face that she had no idea what he was talking about. 

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Willow, what do you remember about me? Do you remember how we met?"

She brightened at the prospect of talking about him, of talking about them together; a memory she had. “I always remember the very first time I saw you. You were standing in an alley way, you wore a red shirt then.” She let out a little sigh. “I thought you were the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.”

Spike couldn’t help preening at her words. 

“There was something about you, something dark and dangerous and mysterious. Of course, I found out later you were a vampire. I guess that’s why you seemed so at home in the dark.”

He knew the moment she was referring to and Spike was encouraged, this at least was a real memory even if it was slightly askew with no Slayer or fighting or any of her friends and nothing about him telling Buffy she was going to die on Saturday. Still, that had been the very first time she had laid eyes on him. 

“That was outside The Bronze, love. Do you remember that?”

“No. I don’t remember the place exactly. Just you. Like the first time we properly met was in a shop. You wanted my help," she spoke haltingly a small frown wrinkling her brow. "You wanted to get Drusilla back." 

Spike wondered at this girl who couldn't recall her best friends yet she remembered his ex. Again, her memory was skewed, but it was rooted in reality. 

"You were drunk and you were shouting at me, and eventually you decided to go back to Brazil to be with Drusilla. I didn't see you again for a year. You came back to me," she said softly, a dreamy look crossing her face. "But you had your chip then. You were so sad, so upset and you needed help. I helped you. I remember feeding you blood from a mug." 

"Uh huh. What else?" 

"Not much else. The things I remember are flashes rather than full memories. You in the bath comes to mind, or more precisely, you in a bath tub, and I see you tied to a chair. I see you fighting a lot and I see you drinking and I see you in a Hawaiian shirt."

Spike snorted. "Feel free to forget about that." 

"It doesn't matter what I see you doing, the feeling is always the same, it's continuous; this feeling of loving you so completely, so fiercely." She looked directly at him, a strip of pink colouring her cheeks. "That's why I want to be with you. I want to...." 

"I think you should just rest tonight, pet," Spike said quickly, he really didn't need to know what she wanted to do with him. He would have to sleep next to her and he didn't need those kind of images in his head. There was only so much self control he could be expected to have. 

"But..." 

"I'll hold you close, keep you close all night. But you should rest. You've had a traumatic day." 

Willow grudgingly agreed to his proposal and Spike found himself wondering if he could trust her to keep her hands to herself. He wasn't sure he'd be able to resist her if she insisted on touching him and kissing him. 

She finished her pizza and went to the kitchen to tidy the box away. Spike made his way back to her room, peeping into the other rooms as he passed until he found her parents room. He rifled through the drawers a feeling of relief washing over him when he found a pair of pyjama bottoms of her father's. They were a bit snug, but they were better than sleeping in his jeans, she'd find that suspicious behaviour, and there was no way he was sleeping naked with her. She didn't need any encouragement or mixed signals from him.   
Spike wondered wildly how he was going to continuously fend her off. 

Willow was settled in bed when he returned to her room. She lifted an eyebrow at him so obviously having changed in another room but she didn't comment on it. In fact, other than to say goodnight to him and kiss him goodnight, Willow didn't say another word, she simply snuggled into his arms and closed her eyes. Her heart beat told him when she had fallen asleep, as Spike had suspected, it didn't take long. She was emotionally drained. 

Presently, Spike drifted to sleep too, the soft sound of her heart and her even breathing soothing and calming, rocking him to sleep. 

How long they had actually been asleep Spike couldn't tell, but Willow's erratic heart beat woke him. She was muttering and wiggling in her sleep, her skin over heating as sweat beaded her brow. 

She gave a sudden scream and her entire body jerked as she bolted upright in bed. Spike switched on the bedside lamp and she blinked and squinted in the light, her chest heaving.

"What is it? Are your memories back?"

She shook her head, gasping for breath. "Not exactly." Willow let out a low groan, her hand going to her heart and a shudder running down her back. "So much pain." 

"You're in pain?" 

"In here," Willow tapped her chest. "Not my pain. It's his pain." 

Cupping her face, Spike turned her slightly to face him, searching her face with worried eyes. "Whose pain?" 

"Angel's." 

"Angel!" Spike couldn't contain the fury rushing through him. What was it about the women in his life and the bloody poof! First Dru, then Buffy and now he couldn't even have a fake wife without Angel in the mix!


	4. Chapter 4

“I have to see Angel. I have to talk to him.” Willow wiggled, reaching across the bed for the phone. 

Spike caught hold of her arm. “It’s just a memory, Willow. Doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with him.” 

“I want to see him for myself. I need to make sure. I….” Willow trailed off and frowned at Spike, the hand holding the phone dropping to the bed. “I don’t know his number. I don’t know where he is.” 

Spike gave a spare shake of his head. “No need to worry about Angel. He’s nice an’ safe in L.A. an’ pet, I’d like him to stay there.” 

“You don’t understand, Spike,” Willow insisted. “You didn’t feel what I felt. I need to make sure he’s alright. He’s… he’s my friend.” Another frown drew her eyebrows together. “I think.” 

Her agitation made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up and Spike gave a little shiver. Wide green eyes were staring at him, almost willing him to understand and help her. He sighed inwardly. “Alright, I’ll get Angel’s number for you.” 

“I want to see him,” Willow replied, a stubborn tilt to her chin. 

Spike grit his teeth, his jaw ticking. “Fine. I’ll take you to see him. There an’ back mind. Walk through the door, see Angel an’ turn around.” 

A curious look crossed her face. “You don’t like him, do you?” 

“No,” Spike said shortly. “Rather not ‘ave to deal with him if I don’t have to.” A sudden thought occurred to him and he smiled disarmingly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll do it for you, if it’s what you want.” 

The more he helped her the more she would help him. 

Willow let out a breath. “Thank you, Spike.” 

“Now, why don’t you put that phone back an’ we’ll get some sleep, hum?” 

She nodded and replaced the phone and snuggled against him. It took a while for her to fall back to sleep but eventually she drifted off with the soothing motion of Spike’s fingers stroking her arm. 

XxX

Aside from a phone call from Xander in the morning to see if Willow was back to normal and receiving an earful of abuse from Spike for waking him up, the day was uneventful. 

Night arrived and brought with it Buffy, Tara and Xander. It had taken all of Giles persuasion to keep them from Willow’s during the day. He pointed out that if Willow’s memories had returned she would have been in touch with them and he didn’t wish to upset her by putting her in situations where she felt uncomfortable not remembering anyone or anything. 

Buffy and Xander had both been on edge all day, constantly leaping for the phone every time it rung hoping it was Willow. Both jumping every time the bell above the door jangled hoping it was Willow. At one point Buffy had sworn to crush the stupid bell. 

Now they arrived at Willow’s unable to stay away any longer. Xander scowled when Spike answered the door and marched straight past him into the living room. "Where's Willow?" 

"Bathroom." 

"How is she?" Tara asked, setting a suitcase down at the front door. "I brought some clothes for her. I know she doesn't have much here."

"She still doesn't remember anythin'. I told her all about her fightin' the good fight but she doesn't remember that either." Spike lit up a cigarette and took a deep pull on it. "The Watcher not come up trumps yet then?"

"He's done more than you," Xander snapped. 

"I've been 'ere, lookin' after your best friend whose got no memory of you whatsoever," Spike retorted, enjoying the distressed look on the whelps face. 

"It doesn't look like it, but we have made a lot of progress," Tara said.

Buffy ran a hand over her face. "We've been going through memory spells all night, there's loads of them."

"Giles has eliminated quite a lot. Unfortunately a lot of them have the same traits which makes it difficult to narrow it down to the right one," Tara said. 

"Hey, wait a minute." Xander spun round to glare at Spike. "Where did you sleep last night? This morning. Whenever." 

Spike allowed his lips to twitch into a brief smirk. "With Willow." 

Xander's face turned as red as Willow's hair. He was practically vibrating with anger. "You what!" 

Spike flicked ash into a saucer he was using as an ashtray. "What the hell did you expect? She thinks we're married. Bit bloody odd if her husband won't sleep in the same bed as her. Can't soddin' win with you, can I? First you tell me to go along with her an' then you aren't 'appy when I do." 

Xander opened his mouth to respond, glared at Spike and then stomped out to the kitchen. Tara, pale, and fighting to keep the distress off her face, followed behind him.

Buffy's head tilted as she surveyed Spike quizzically. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping Willow?" 

He gave her a long look. "You know why." 

Buffy turned away from him with an annoyed breath and left the room to find Xander and Tara. 

Spike stubbed out his cigarette with a scowl. Was a bit of gratitude too much to bloody ask! He followed them into the kitchen just as Willow arrived. He watched her closely but there was no flicker of real recognition from her. 

She addressed Buffy. "What are you doing here?"

Buffy smiled. "We've just come to see how you are." 

Willow made a small gesture. "So, you just drop any old time?" 

"Um," Buffy cleared her throat. 

"Now isn't a good time. I have to pack." 

"Pack?" Xander echoed. "Why?" 

"Spike's taking me to see Angel." 

"Angel?" It was more of a sound than a word the way Buffy spoke his name and Spike scowled. 

"Can I ask why?" Tara asked.

"I had a nightmare about him," Willow replied unwillingly. "I want to see him so Spike's taking me to L.A."

"What was the nightmare about?" Tara asked.

"It was about Angel getting his soul," Willow said. 

Buffy couldn't help the feeling of envy she experienced at the thought of Willow getting to see Angel. She wondered what Angel would make of Willow's new condition and in the absence of her best friend Buffy had the sudden urge to see Angel and hear that strong voice telling her everything would be okay and she'd get her best friend back. "Maybe I should go too. As your friend." She and Angel had helped and rescued Willow before, it wasn't such a stretch to think they could team up and help her again. 

"That's alright. I have Spike."

Buffy flinched. Willow's dismissive attitude cut like a laser. 

Spike's hand clenched into a fist. He was annoyed but unsurprised that Buffy would try to take his trip to L.A. as an opportunity to see Angel. Love of her life and all that bloody rot. Well, he knew those kinds of love didn't last. He and Dru were proof of that and if he could move past Dru after a century together it shouldn't take too much time for Buffy to really move on from Angel. Especially now solider boy had done a runner. 

He really didn't want to go to L.A. but maybe Buffy would start to rethink him when she saw exactly how much he put himself out to help Willow. And having Willow look at him as her husband, and if he was a good husband to her, it might make Buffy think of him as a lover and make her see what a good boyfriend he'd make for her. 

Tracing the edge of the kitchen counter Tara said, "I think seeing Angel might help you, Willow. I think you going to L.A. is a good idea. You remembering him is very encouraging."

"Yeah," Xander said slowly. "Perhaps your memories will just return by themselves." 

"Willow, I'd like to do a spell to see if I can find any magical traces around you which aren't your own. It'll tell us if a spell was cast on you by someone or something else," Tara said. 

"I don't think so," Willow shook her head. "I don't really want strangers doing magic on me."

"Oh, yes. I understand." Tara blinked back tears. It was painful to know her own girlfriend not only believed herself in love with someone else, but didn't remember her at all and didn't even trust her. 

"Is there anything else?" Willow looked from one to the other. "Spike and I are leaving almost immediately." 

She understood why she remembered Spike. She loved him. More than anything. Love that strong would always remain Willow was sure. But according to these people they were best friends. Even Spike said so, but she didn't remember anything at all about them. Willow knew she was hurting these people by not remembering them and she was aware that she was pushing them away, but it was frightening, having a whole life she knew nothing about. Seeing them standing around her, wanting to be close to her made her defensive for reasons Willow couldn't quite put into words. 

"We should probably leave you to it then," Tara said, grabbing Xander's elbow firmly and pushing him towards to the door. "You'll let us know how things go in L.A. won't you?" 

Willow allowed a smile and nodded. She knew they just wanted to help her and she wanted her memories back as much as they did, but it was difficult to trust people she didn't know.

"We'll keep you updated if we make any progress," Buffy said, longing to hug her friend goodbye but knowing Willow wouldn't welcome it. Why oh why did Willow only remember Spike? Maybe seeing Angel and Spike together, two people she remembered might help jog Willow's memory. 

"Bye Willow," Tara said softly. 

"See ya later, Wills," Xander reluctantly left the house. 

Buffy waved from the door. "Say hi to everyone in L.A. from us." 

Spike made a face. Send my love to Angel, was more like it. 

Willow let out a sigh. "I thought they'd never leave. They make me uncomfortable watching me all the time waiting for me to remember them. It's horrible not remembering anything other than you. And now a vague memory of Angel."

Spike squeezed her shoulder. "Not to worry, love. We'll find a way to fix it."

"I'll just finish packing and then we can leave. Oh, Spike," Willow paused in the doorway. "Can vampires get brain damage?"

Spike blinked in surprise. "Brain damage? No. Why?"

"Well, I've been thinking, I don't know anything about surgery as a way of getting the chip out, but it should be easy enough to disable a small micro chip. You'd just need an electrocution."

Spike stared at her, jaw dropping open. How hadn't he thought of that himself? 

"You haven't packed your hair dryer yet 'ave you, pet?"


	5. Chapter 5

Spike had taken the suitcase Tara had brought to the bedroom for her and while Willow had been busy packing Spike had made his way to the bathroom, hair dryer in hand. 

He’d broken the hair dryer and blown the lights, but he’d fried his chip. 

As they sat in his car speeding towards L.A. Spike’s excitement, his happiness, transferred itself to Willow and she smiled at him from the passenger seat, glad she could help the one person she loved more than anyone else in the world. 

Plus, she had a little surprise for Spike in the suitcase. When she had been going through her room looking for clothes to pack she had come across a very familiar sweater; pink and fluffy with lilac underneath. The memory of Spike saying how bite-able she was in that sweater came rushing to the forefront of her mind and now that he had his bite back, Willow wiggled a little in her seat, cheeks infused with pink, it was only natural she should wear it for him. Her fingers brushed against her throat where phantom fang marks hovered in her mind. She wondered how much it would hurt when she and Spike were finally together in every way a human and vampire could be together. Spike would be careful with her, Willow was sure. 

“How much do you remember about Angel?” 

Willow came out of her thoughts, lips pursing as she considered the question. “He didn’t always have a soul,” she said slowly. “He was cursed with it.”

Spike nodded. “Anythin’ else?” 

“You don’t like him.” A smile touched her lips. “You don’t like him very much at all. But I’m fuzzy on the details.” 

Spike shrugged. “Details aren’t important. You remember, that’s what counts.” 

Willow sighed heavily. “I don’t know why I remember him. And I don’t have that many memories of him. But he’s there. And I think he was important. Not to me,” she added hastily. “Just, important. In my life.”

“He probably was important in your life,” Spike admitted grudgingly. “First big spell you ever did was to resoul Angel.” 

“Well,” she sat up a little straighter. “He did try to kill me and he did kill my fish. Makes sense I’d want to put his soul back.” 

“Do you remember how he lost it in the first place?” 

Willow frowned and shook her head. “No idea.” 

Spike opened his mouth to tell her and then shut it again. He’d let Peaches tell her, let him rake over the past. Add a little more pain to his everyday existence.   
He was brought out of his thoughts of a brooding Angel when Willow’s hand curled over his knee. He glanced down at it before letting his eyes flick to her face. She was smiling softly.

“Thank you for coming with me. I know you don't like dealing with Angel.” 

“I can handle the poof if it helps you get back to normal,” Spike assured her, wishing she’d stop caressing his leg and keep her hands to herself. It was distracting when he trying to drive. The warmth of her seeped through the fabric of his jeans making him hyper aware of her every little movement. 

“Spike, do you think someone did this to me?” 

“Could be. You’re the one whose always researchin’, take away your knowledge of magic an’ you’re just a girl whose lost her memories. No reason for you to think of hittin’ the books to find out why. You’re more likely to head to your doctor. Keeps you out of the way.” 

Even if her friends were right and someone or something had been playing with her mind, Spike couldn’t understand where he fitted in. Why did she have memories of him? Why did she have this life with him she remembered which had never existed? 

He also couldn’t quite see why Angel would stick out in her mind more than her friends would. She hadn’t seen Angel for a long time and so far as Spike was aware Willow wasn’t in touch with the poof on the phone or anything. A sudden frown came to his face at the idea of Willow engaging in secret phone calls with Angel. 

“Slayer’s and Watchers, vampires with souls. It all sounds like a TV show. Oh,” she clapped her hands together. “You like watching Passions. Don’t you?” 

Spike laughed. “Yeah, I do, pet.” 

They engaged in easy chat for the remainder of the journey. Nothing which would upset Willow and stress her out. They arrived in L.A. in record time thanks to Spike’s driving and he pulled up outside Angel’s hotel with a snort. Just like Angel to need an entire bloody hotel to himself. Getting out of the car he watched Willow as she stood quietly staring up at the hotel, the lights from the foyer casting a small glow on the top step. 

He could feel how nervous she was, it made him a bit jumpy himself. Going to her, Spike held out his hand. “Come on, pet. In we go.” 

“It’s like walking into the unknown,” Willow whispered. “Angel doesn’t know we’re coming and I only vaguely remember him.” She grasped his hand tighter and looked up at him. “I’m glad you’re here, Spike.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, love.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Take all the time you want, I’m in no hurry to see him an’ he ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

Willow took a few deep breaths and then walked forward, the purpose in her step faltering when she reached the steps and she took them slowly, her heart fluttering rapidly. Spike pushed the door open holding it for her and she almost crept into the foyer, eyes sweeping the room looking for something or someone familiar. She spotted Angel immediately, he was leaning against the front desk. There was a girl with him, a very pretty girl with brown eyes and brown hair to her shoulders. The girl glanced behind her at an office as a man emerged from within, a thin man with dark hair and glasses. It seemed they were expecting her. 

Angel came forward and smiled at her. His tone was gentle when he spoke. “Hello, Willow.” 

“Hello, Angel.” 

She watched Angel and Spike exchange quick looks. 

“Spike.” 

“Peaches.” 

Angel frowned, but chose not to rise to the barb. “I hear you’re having some problems.” 

“Yes. How do you know?” 

“Giles called. Said you were on your way.” 

“Should ‘ave guessed he’d call,” Spike muttered. “Don’t tell me, you’ve got the solution already, huh? Mr Saviour of the People.” 

“No,” Angel admitted. “But I’m sure we’ll find it. Try not to worry too much, Willow. Come and meet Wesley and Cordelia. See if you remember them.” 

“I don’t,” Willow said shortly, glancing again at the man and the girl. It hadn’t occurred to her that Angel would have friends she was supposed to know and her heart sank. More people she couldn’t remember. More things her mind was hiding from her. She’d thought it might be easier being at Angel’s with no-one there to watch her with haunted hopeful eyes. Although, now she looked at Wesley and Cordelia, she could see they did not wear the same expressions as Xander, Buffy and Tara. They looked sympathetic, but not eager or disappointed every time her eyes touched their faces. 

She allowed Angel to lead her to the front desk and automatically took Wesley’s hand when he offered it to her. 

“Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I feel I should introduce myself even though we’ve previously met,” Wesley said. “It’s a bit like starting over, isn’t it?”

“A bit,” Willow agreed. 

Cordelia stared at her long and hard. “You don’t remember me at all?”

“No.”

Cordelia snorted. “Well, I’d thought you might, considering you kissed my boyfriend and got me impaled when I was trying to rescue you.” 

Angel groaned and Wesley huffed. “We agreed, Cordelia,” he reminded her. 

Cordelia shrugged. “I just thought if she didn’t remember the good stuff she might remember the bad stuff.” She waved a hand at Willow. “I’m totally over it. Just thought I’d give it a try. Didn’t work, huh?” 

“No.” Willow shook her head. “Sorry. For what…” 

“Forget it,” Cordelia interrupted and then winced. “Oh, well, you’ve already done that. So never mind. And don’t worry, Wes will figure something out. He always does. He’s like Giles, only younger and sort of not so boring.” 

“Thank you, Cordeila,” Wesley said dryly.

“Nice little gang you’ve got ‘ere. They must be invaluable to you, Peaches.”

“Mind your own business, Spike. You’re here to help Willow not to critique our work,” Angel snapped. “And stop calling me that.” 

“Might. Might not,” Spike said, delighting in the furrowed brow he received as a response. It was good to know he could still annoy Angel. 

The door suddenly flew open and the strangest looking creature Willow had ever seen came breezing into the foyer. He was green, and had little red horns at his temples and a shock of wavy fair hair. He wore a beige suit with a blue and white striped shirt and what Willow could only describe as a bright red cravat. He threw his arms out as he practically glided down the steps.

“Relax Crumb Cake, I’m here.” 

Angel was smiling slightly. “Thanks for coming, Lorne.” 

“No problem, Angel cakes. This our little witch?” He looked at Willow and laughed softly. “Like I need to ask. Memories or not, the power’s still there.” 

Willow merely stared at him, her lips parted. She chanced a glance at Spike but he looked just as startled as she felt. 

“Don’t mind him. Lorne’s always like that,” Cordelia said. “He’s here to help you, Willow.” 

“How?” Willow asked guardedly. 

“Quite like to know that myself,” Spike agreed. 

“Spike, I presume?” Spike nodded and Lorne turned his attention back to Willow smiling reassuringly. “Angel’s told me about your troubles and he thought I might be able to help by going into your head.” 

“Going into my head!” Willow pressed closer to Spike, her free hand grasping at the front of his coat. 

Angel watched as Spike patted Willow’s hand gently, making a soothing sound in the back of his throat. Angel wondered if Spike was even aware of it. It seemed to come from him naturally, as though he had been looking out for Willow his whole life. Angel relaxed a little, Spike was no threat to Willow. Buffy must think the same to allow Spike to accompany Willow here. He knew about Spike’s chip and that probably went a long way in easing Buffy’s worries where Spike and Willow were concerned right now. 

“What exactly do you intend on doin’?” Spike asked.

“It won’t hurt,” Lorne promised. “I’ll just take a little peek to see if I can find out what’s happened to Willow’s memories. I should be able to tell if they’re still inside her head or if they’ve been taken completely.” 

“Can someone do that?” Wesley asked. “I didn’t think that was a possibility. I assumed her memories had merely been repressed.” 

“Anything’s a possibility,” Lorne said. He smiled brightly. “Let’s not worry until we know exactly what’s going on in that pretty little head, shall we?” 

Willow glanced up at Spike. Surely Angel wouldn’t suggest something that could hurt her. And she kind of liked Lorne. He seemed to genuinely want to help her. “Are you going to cast a spell?” 

“No, nothing like that. If you just relax and open up your mind I should be able to pop in without any trouble. Proving your magic doesn’t put up any defences. It might, even if you don’t cast the spell.” 

“I think it’s going to be the only way, love.” Spike drew her towards the sofa in the middle of the foyer. “Now sit down an’ try to relax. Best to get it over with quickly.”   
Willow didn’t really like the idea of a stranger poking about inside her head, but at least Lorne didn’t want to cast a spell on her the way Tara had wanted to. Willow suppressed a shudder. The thought of magic made her ooky. 

“It’s alright, love,” Spike assured her when she hesitated. “Sit down. I’ll be right ‘ere next to you.” 

Lorne took a seat beside her. “I’ll be in and out as quick as I can. Now, take a deep breath, sugar and close your eyes and open your mind.” 

Willow took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She struggled to open her mind, not really understanding what it meant, but before she could worry about it she felt another presence inside her mind. 

The next thing Willow knew she was blinking and staring into Lorne’s face. She looked about her. Angel, Wesley and Cordeila were hovering behind Lorne and Spike was sitting beside her still holding her hand. She frowned. “Is it over?” 

“All done,” Lorne said. 

“But… but I didn’t feel anything. Nothing happened.” 

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt.” Lorne patted her shoulder. “You weren’t trying to fight me so I was able to have a look around without bothering you. I didn’t stay long, I was afraid I might disrupt your thoughts and your mind if I lingered about.” 

“Well?” Angel pressed. “Did you see anything?” 

“Good news! Your memories are all still intact, Willow. They’re bound up with magic with only Spike bleeding through to your conscious mind.” 

“Why does she remember me?” Angel asked. 

“I think it's because the magic she used to restore your soul was so powerful. Willow’s a witch whether she remembers it or not and magic is a part of her. Such strong magic makes itself known to her conscious mind. Your soul was guided through hers to bring it back to you. It's not something she can easily forget as it’s a very personal piece of magic,” Lorne explained. “Willow remembers Angel because of his soul. He’s almost a part of her.” 

“And Spike?” Wesley asked.

Lorne shrugged. “I don’t know why she remembers him.” 

Spike felt Willow bristle. Before she could voice her love for him, which wouldn’t help in the least as it was all in her head, Spike said, “Can we unbind her memories?”

“Oh yes, that’s possible. Providing you can find the right spell to do it,” Lorne said. “Memories are delicate and precious. The mind too. You can’t cast any old reversal spell and hope for the best. The spell has to be the exact one to counter act what’s been done.” 

Wesley let out a sigh. “Finding the right spell will take some doing. But, not to worry. Now we know for certain you still have your memories, Willow, we’ll get them back.” He turned and headed for the office. “I’ll call Giles.” 

Willow let out a sigh and rubbed at her forehead. Spike felt that wave of pity for her again. He’d hate to not remember who he was. There didn’t seem like much they could do until they found the right spell and while he was happy to research to help Willow, he didn’t much fancy hanging around Angel right now. 

“How about we go out an’ let you get some air?” He suggested. “You ‘aven’t eaten yet either. Let’s go grab a bite, shall we, love?”

Willow nodded. “Yes. Yes alright, Spike.” 

She sounded drained and Spike didn’t blame her. He saw Angel’s lips part to speak and said quickly, “No need for you to tag along.” The idea of having Angel with them made Spike’s hackles rise.“We don’t need you hangin’ around like a gigantic broodin’ cloud.” 

Angel’s eyebrows rushed together. “What do you mean, “gigantic”?” 

Spike grinned. “Not exactly small and inconspicuous now, are ya?” 

“I could have a vision,” Cordelia pipped up. “You should probably stay here, Angel. Besides, Willow doesn’t need you sitting and staring at her when she’s trying to eat.” 

“Well….”

“Thank you, Angel,” Willow said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I really appreciate your help. All of you,” she added looking from Lorne to Cordeila. 

“Come on, let’s get out of ‘ere,” Spike tugged her forward, causing her hand to slip from Angel’s arm. 

“Wait!” Wesely came hurtling out of the office. “Wait a minute, Willow. I’ve just been speaking to Giles. He says that following Spike’s information about finding a spell set up in your bedroom, Tara went back to your house to try and discover if there was another magical signature there. She says that you very recently cast a powerful spell. They don’t know what that spell is yet, they’re looking into it.”

Willow stared at Wesley for a moment. “So it’s possible,” she said slowly. “That I did this to myself?” 

Wesley nodded. “Yes. It’s possible.” 

Willow sat down heavily. What in the world had she been trying to do that would have caused her to magically bind all her memories into a dark corner of her mind?


	6. Chapter 6

The diner was quite empty. Willow and Spike sat in a corner booth where Willow absently twirled a straw in her chocolate milkshake and Spike helped himself to her fries. Her burger sat on the plate half eaten. 

“Come on, pet,” Spike encouraged, “You need to eat somethin’.”

Willow sighed, pressing thumb and forefinger against her closed eyelids. “What did I do? Why would I do something like this to myself?” 

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to.” It was easier for Spike to be sympathetic towards her botched spell this time around when it had benefited him. “Any idea at all what you could ‘ave been tryin’ to do?” 

“It’s so frustrating, Spike, knowing the answers are right here in my head and not having access to them.” She gave a spare shake of her head and then her eyes lifted to his. 

“Spike, am I one of those completely stupid people? You know, the kind who insists on doing something even when they’re useless at it?”

“What? No. Course not. Why would you think that?” 

She let out another sigh and spread her hands wide. “Well, I’m clearly no good at magic to have managed to do this to myself. I thought maybe I’m one of those stubborn fools who thinks they’ll show everyone how wrong they are and ends up just proving everyone’s point; that they can’t actually do whatever it is they think they can do. I thought maybe I’m like that with magic.” 

“Pet, if you didn’t whip out the mojo we’d all be pushin’ up daisies by now. You’ve saved us an’ you’ve saved the world an’ you’ll go on doin’ just that once you get your memories back. You should be proud of yourself.” 

Reaching across the table Spike covered Willow’s hand with his own, smiling at her when she curled her fingers around his, seemingly content to sit there like that with him.  
“Do you think the spell I cast had something to do with your chip?” 

“I doubt it.” As soon as he saw her forehead wrinkle Spike knew he’d made an error. This Willow loved him so much he knew she wouldn’t be able to comprehend a world in which she didn’t love him and wanted his chip to remain intact. “But you never know,” he added quickly. “Maybe.” 

Lifting her burger one handed Willow bit into it, chewing slowly. She swallowed. “Once I’ve finished here we’d better go and help Angel, hadn’t we? I made this mess, I should help to clear it up. I can’t expect everyone else to do the research for me.” 

Spike stifled a groan at the thought of spending his evening cooped up with Angel and researching. He wanted to go out and try out his newly deactivated chip. Still, he smiled at her. It was good to see the real Willow starting to shine through a little bit. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“Spike?"

He cocked an eyebrow at the way she drew out his name. “Hum? After a favour are we?” 

Her lips twitched. “Probably the biggest favour I could ask.” 

“Oh?” 

“Would you mind too much if we just stayed here for a day or two? I feel more comfortable here than I do in Sunnydale. We know my memories aren’t just going to come back on their own, so nothing there is going to help me remember, and I hate the way Buffy and Xander and Tara keep looking at me, like they lost their best friend.” 

“They did,” Spike said simply. 

Willow shrugged. “Maybe. But they make me uncomfortable and you know as well as I do that they won’t stay away, they won’t keep their distance. I can tell by the way they look at me.” 

Her request meant he was stuck with Angel in his face for a bit longer, but it could end up benefiting him. He’d get to hunt and feed without a slayer around and his absence from Sunnydale, leaving Buffy with only inadequate humans to back her up, might make her realise how much of an asset he was and how much she really relied on him.   
She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin as she waited anxiously for his response. 

“Guess we could stay for a bit,” he allowed. 

Willow beamed and Spike felt his agreement had been worth it for that look alone. She finished her drink and got to her feet. “Thank you, Spike.” 

Fishing a few bills out of his pocket Spike tossed them on the table. “Anythin’ for my girl.” 

She tucked herself into his side, her arm wrapped loosely around his waist as they left the diner. It was the same sort of natural familiar action as when she had put her feet in his lap only last night. Spike let his arm loop around her shoulders giving her a gentle squeeze. It was kinda nice really. 

Although he didn’t mind Willow’s company, and it was pleasant having her look at him like he was her whole world; Spike was still itching to go out into the night and let the demon run free. He had been caged for so long. Too long. 

When they reached the hotel he stopped at the gate. “You go on in, I won’t be long.” 

“Where are you going?” 

The inflection of fright in her tone was easily detectable to a demon of Spike’s experience. “Won’t be long. If I ‘ave to live with Angel, even for another hour, I’m gonna need reinforcements to dull the mind -numbing boredom an’ self-righteous sanctimonious crap he’s bound to start spoutin’.” He grinned at her confused expression. “Gonna need alcohol, love. The good stuff.” 

Willow rolled her eyes and nodded. “Shall I come with you?” 

“Be quicker on my own,” Spike said. She looked a little disappointed and Spike found his hand curling around her neck as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Be back before you know it.” 

The kiss seemed to appease her and Spike watched her enter the safety of the hotel before he turned away, his blood thrilling as he made his way into the heart of the city looking for his first real meal in what felt like a century. 

Spike found he was moving quickly and it wasn’t just the burning need to hunt and bite and kill; he didn’t want to leave Willow on her own for too long. He owed her a little, not just for the chip but for being there for him twice when he was at his lowest. Spike knew he had an odd sense of loyalty about him but it didn’t bother him. Out of everyone he knew, Willow deserved his help and his loyalty and he was going to give her both. 

Spike was out longer than he had anticipated. The thrill of stalking his prey too much to resist. The delicious moment of sinking his fangs into his victim’s throat something he simply couldn’t abandon too soon. 

He did remember to grab himself a nice bottle of whiskey. Keeping up appearances and all that. Besides, he hadn’t lied to Willow, he really did need the good stuff if he was going to have to deal with Angel. 

A spring in his step, Spike returned to the hotel and practically skipped up the steps into the foyer. Unlife was good again. 

He sauntered into the foyer, whiskey bottle swinging from his fingers, cigarette dangling from his lips. He noticed two new people, a tall black man and thin waif-like girl with long dark hair, but he couldn’t see Willow or the mighty brooding one. 

It wasn’t until he was half-way across the room and he glanced out of the glass doors leading to the garden that Spike saw her. Willow was sitting on the back steps with Angel.   
He was moving quickly, legs eating up the floor. He reached the doors to find Angel had Willow’s hand in his own and he was looking at her with an earnest I’m-the good -guy-and-I’ll-fix-all-your-problems expression. 

Spike’s fingers clenched around the bottle so tightly the glass gave and shattered in his hand, shards of glass slicing his skin and whiskey dribbling over the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

Spike barely felt the glass slice through his palm, but the noise of the splintering bottle caught Angel’s attention and he looked up, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Willow followed Angel’s eyes and smiled when she saw Spike. Using the metal railing of the steps to hoist herself to her feet she came towards him. 

“Spike!” It was a sharp exclamation, Willow’s eyes widened as she opened the door and took in the mingled blood and whisky dripping from his hand and smearing the floor. 

“Spike, what are you doing?” Angel’s tone was one of long resigned patience and it made Spike’s jaw clench. 

Cordelia suddenly appeared at Spike’s shoulder and all but shoved a mop at him. “Here you are. I’m so not cleaning up your evil vampire mess.”

“I’ll do it,” Willow said quickly. “Just let me see to Spike’s hand first.”

“That’s alright, I’ll clean it up.” The dark haired waif like girl crossed the room and took the mop from Cordelia. 

“You don’t have to, Fred,” Willow said.

Fred shook her head. “I don’t mind. You look after Spike’s hand.” 

“Spike, this is Winifred Burkle,” Willow said, waving a hand at the girl. 

Fred gave him what Spike thought was a very Willow smile; bright and helpful and eager to please. “Nice to meet you, Spike.” 

“Ah, yeah.” 

“There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen,” Fred said, pointing towards the far door. "It's in the cupboard under the sink."

“Come on.” Willow took hold of his arm and pulled him towards the kitchen. "Really, Spike. How did you manage to smash that bottle? It's not like you to be clumsy." 

"Just lost concentration is all, pet. What were you an' Angel talkin' about? Looked pretty cosy out there." 

She pushed him into a chair at the kitchen counter before kneeling to open the cupboard under the sink. "Nothing really. He was telling me how he lost his soul. It's so tragic, isn't it, Spike? It's like an epic love story, except it's not a story it's reality and there's no guarantee of a happy ending."

Setting the first aid kit on the counter Willow popped the top and rummaged for some antiseptic. Taking his hand Willow cradled it in her own, a far way look in her eyes. "It must be terrible to love someone that much and not be able to be with them." 

“Suppose.” He really didn’t want to talk about Angel and Buffy. But, on the bright side, at least he knew Angel would be extra broody for the rest of the night. 

“I feel bad now,” Willow admitted. “I understand now why Buffy offered to come with us. She must have been so excited to have a genuine reason to come here and be near Angel and I messed it up for her.” 

“She’ll get over it,” Spike replied testily. 

Willow glanced up, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Am I hurting you, Spike?” 

Of course Willow would attribute his mood to his hand and not, as usual, to him never measuring up to Angel. His tone softened, it wasn’t her fault. “No, pet. Just mad I broke the whiskey bottle.” 

“I could ask Angel or Wesley, maybe they have a bottle somewhere they could share with you.” 

Loss of memories didn’t change Willow, she was still quick to offer her help and eager to ease someone else’s misery. She’d always tried to help him and ease his misery, it seemed to be all part of their relationship. Spike didn’t mind so much. Willow was a good listener. She was one of life’s carers no matter who was in trouble. He didn’t take it personally, as a slight against his demon. 

“Doesn’t matter. I can do without. I’ll just avoid Captain Forehead as much as possible.” 

Willow rolled her eyes and finished bandaging his hand. She kissed the bandage lightly. “There, all done.” 

“Feels better already.” 

She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Spike grinned. “That’s what you get for gettin’ in a conversation with Angel. He’d bore a coma patient.” 

Willow laughed. “Angel’s not so bad.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “It’s so much later than I thought it was. You were gone ages, Spike.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that, love. Won’t ‘appen again. Just takin’ a look around is all. Haven’t been in L.A. for a while.” He didn’t worry about the small lie, she didn’t remember the Gem of Amara and besides, Spike wasn’t sure how much she knew about his last meeting with Angel. A deep satisfied smile curled Spike’s lips when he recalled Angel hanging from the ceiling in chains, his body all beaten and bloody. He’d have sweet dreams tonight. 

She was looking at him curiously. “What are you smiling about?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m a vampire, we won’t always smile about the same things.” 

Willow pursed her lips. “Is it something to do with Angel? You aren’t planning anything mean are you? Not after he’s been nice enough to let us stay here.” 

Spike’s head fell back as he laughed. “Mean? Me? To Angel? Never.” 

She was smiling in spite of herself. “I think I’ll go up to bed. Are you coming, Spike?”

“Be up in a minute or two. You go on. I’ll put the first aid kit away.” 

Willow nodded, absently stroking his arm as she passed him. Spike took his time pottering around in the kitchen, nosing in the drawers and the cupboards to see what Angel had lying around. As Spike had suspected; nothing interesting. 

Fred appeared with the mop and pulled out a dustpan and brush from a small cupboard in the corner of the room. “Can I help you find something?” 

“Nah, just lookin’.” 

“How’s your hand?” 

“Willow fixed me up just fine.” 

“Well, if you need anything, just holler.” Fred left the room dustpan in hand. 

Yes, she reminded him of Willow in many ways. And on the subject of his devoted wife, Spike knew he couldn’t avoid going up to bed much longer. Hopefully she’d be too tired to think about much else. She’d had a full day after all and there was only so much he could be expected to resist. He was a full blooded, red blooded demon after all. He had needs. And many of them could easily be fulfilled and satisfied by the oh so willing little witch he currently had to share a bed with. 

“That’s all right, I’ll take it. I have to put the kettle on anyway. You go to bed, Fred.” Wesley was saying as Spike crossed the foyer. He saw Wesley take the dustpan from Fred. 

Cordelia had her purse in her hand and was pushing her chair beneath her desk. “I’ll see you in the morning, Gunn.” 

“Night, Cordy.” Spike placed the name Gunn to the good looking black guy who had his arm around Fred’s shoulders. 

Angel was nowhere to be seen, but then dawn was fast approaching, perhaps he had already gone up to bed like a good little vampire. 

Spike headed up the stairs, he felt no need to speak to any of Angel’s pet humans and they didn’t appear interested in what he was doing. Probably thought he was still all chipped and harmless. A little bounce found its way into Spike’s step when he thought of how he could, if he wanted to, slaughter the lot of them where they stood.  
He hadn’t asked Willow what room they were in, but he found her easily enough by following her heart beat. She was sitting up in bed, a book in her hand when he came through the door. “Thought you’d be half asleep by now.”

“I just wanted to finish looking through this chapter. Angel interrupted me before I could finish it.” Willow let out a sigh and closed the book, placing it on the bedside table. “Nothing useful in it.” 

“You’re researchin’. Nice to see you’re still yourself.” He took off his coat and threw it over the back of a chair before sitting to remove his boots. 

Willow’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Would the loss of my memories affect my personality to the extent of changing it? I’m still me, aren’t I. I still have the same instincts and feelings. Don’t I?”

“Don’t rightly know, pet,” Spike admitted, picking up the pair of sweatpants she had left lying at the bottom of the bed for him. He needed to change but wasn’t sure doing it in front of her was the best idea. 

Suddenly Willow moved. She came out from beneath the bed covers and crawled across to the bottom of the bed. It wasn’t a seductive move. It spoke of comfortable familiarity as she grabbed hold of his wrist, using him as leverage to steady herself as she got to her knees. Her free hand closed around the sweat pants. 

“You don’t need these, Spike.” She tugged at the sweat pants and Spike’s grip tightened on them. 

He wasn’t sure what to say. He cast about in his mind for something that would help, but nothing came to mind. Flutters of anticipation rose in the pit of his belly as he watched Willow watching him; her eyes shining as she moved in closer to kiss him. Her arms slid around his neck and her lips touched his, soft and warm and inviting. Spike closed his eyes and surrendered to the moment. A kiss couldn’t hurt. 

As his lips parted against hers, Willow took full advantage of the opportunity and deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against his sending essence of Willow sweeping through his mouth. Her scent curled around him so strongly it felt as much of a physical presence as her arms around his neck. 

Spike let his hand rest on the base of her spine, lingering there before riding the curve of her hip as his arm curled around her waist and he found himself pulling her closer. 

She had to back off a bit to breathe and she caught his lower lip between her teeth, pulling it into her mouth, sucking lightly as her fingers slid into his hair. She pressed closer to his chest, a little sound of pleasure in her throat and Spike knew he was drowning in her; in her warmth, her softness, in the way she wanted him so completely. 

Her hips shifted just a fraction against his, but it was enough that Spike knew she had felt his very obvious reaction to her by the way she caught his mouth again and her fingers tightened their hold in his hair. She made a sound of raw desire. He could feel the heat of her skin beneath the cotton top she wore and Spike knew things were getting out of control. If he let this go on any longer he’d be totally lost to her. 

He pulled back from the kiss and he knew the only reason he was able to untangle himself from her was because she believed he was going to fall into bed with her.  
“Hold on a minute, pet.” 

She blinked, clearly startled. “What is it?” 

She sounded breathless and his cock jumped in response. “Just wait a minute.” Spike scrambled to find a good excuse for not giving in, one that would sound feasible not just to her but something he could accept as well. 

“What is it, Spike?” She managed to wiggle closer to him in spite of his hands on her shoulders, and brush a kiss against his jaw. “Is there something specific you want?”  
Spike’s eyes closed. Bloody hell, was she trying to kill him? 

“It’s not right…” 

“I know. You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

“Ah, no. Not that.” He caught her wrists as she began to work on the buckle of his belt. “You. You’re not right….”

“Oh? Did I forget something I usually do? What do you want me to do, Spike?”

His eyes closed again. Her voice was like velvet brushing against his spine. Suddenly he alighted on a reason to forestall things and Spike couldn’t work out if that was a good thing or not. “You’re not you, love. It feels weird.” 

A frown came to her face. “I don’t understand. I’m still me, Spike.” 

“You’re sort of you,” he said slowly. “It doesn’t feel right, us makin’ love when you aren’t completely yourself. If we’re gonna make love I want all of you, not just part of you. Can you understand that?” 

Willow sat back on her heels, Spike could see the battle in her eyes, love verses disappointment. In the end love won out and she smiled. His consideration clearly elevated his status so far as Willow was concerned. The tension eased out of her arms and Spike released her wrists, trusting her to behave herself. At least for now.  
And that was not disappointment he felt circulating in his veins. He wasn’t doing the right thing exactly. Everything he was doing, helping Willow, putting up with Angel, living in L.A. it was all for Buffy. He'd never be with Buffy if she discovered he had slept with her best friend. It didn’t exactly scream true love. 

“Into bed with you.” Spike patted her behind and she obediently returned to her side of the bed and slid beneath the covers, smoothing out the wrinkles while he headed into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. There were two toothbrushes side by side in a pot by the sink, one pink and one blue. Spike smiled slightly at the sight of them. 

Undressing, Spike almost glared at his cock, hard and swollen and wanting. He had to do something about it before going back to bed. Taking himself in hand, Spike stroke the length of his cock, concentrating on the steady wash of Willow’s heartbeat which was easily detected through the bathroom door. 

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth. He didn’t have to search her out, his lip was saturated in Willow. His hand moved faster and he sucked harder on his lip drawing out the very last taste of her. Unbidden the image of sinking his fangs into Willow’s throat flittered behind his closed eyes and in the image she screamed. Spike groaned, sagging back against the door as he erupted over his hand; bottom lip still clamped between his teeth. He continued to suck on it absently as he washed his hands and stepped into the sweat pants, finally releasing his lip to brush his teeth. 

He returned to the bedroom and Willow turned on to her side to face him when he got into bed. She didn’t say anything, she simply reached for him and kissed him; a lingering kiss goodnight before curling into his side and using his shoulder for a pillow, her arm looping around his waist. 

Still no words passed between them as they settled down for the day. Spike didn’t feel the need to say anything as he stroked her arm, listening to her heart and her breathing even out as sleep took hold of her. 

Spike figured kissing her was okay. He couldn’t possibly deny her everything, it would make her suspicious, and Spike realised that he agreed with Tara. He couldn’t tell Willow the truth. He couldn’t tell her that she didn’t really love him and she wasn’t his wife. He couldn’t leave her on her own with only a vague memory of Angel for company. 

He closed his eyes, his head tilting to rest his chin against the top of her head. The sacrifices he made for the greater good.


	8. Chapter 8

“It feels a bit like snooping.” Buffy ran her hand over the clothes hanging in the closet. She remembered most of them from high school, Willow rarely wore any of them these days. She missed Willow terribly. Not just her best friend, someone to talk to, but Willow’s physical presence. She missed catching sight of Willow out of the corner of her eye or turning around and seeing her best friend hunched over a book or tapping away at her computer. There was a Willow shaped hole in her life and Buffy hated it. 

It had stung when Giles had informed her that Willow intended to stay on in L.A. for a few days. He hadn’t said it, and Buffy was sure that Wesley hadn’t said it either; but she knew in her heart Willow was avoiding them. Willow hadn’t even made the call herself. Buffy wasn’t unsympathetic. She could understand that Willow was going through a terrible time right now, but Buffy wished she could be there. She wished there was something she could actually do to help. Knowing her best friend only wanted to be around Spike of all the creatures in the world brought a physical pain to her chest. 

She was never going to take Willow for granted again. In fact, Buffy vowed never to let Willow out of her sight again. 

“Yeah it does. It’s great,” Anya enthused, pulling open a drawer and rifling through the contents. 

“Willow will understand,” Tara said, bending at the waist to read the spines on a stack of books sitting on the edge of Willow’s old desk. “She’ll understand we had to look through her room for clues. She won’t hold it against us.” Tara straightened and bit her bottom lip as she looked across at Buffy. “Will she?” 

“Once Willow’s back to normal I’m sure she’ll be okay with us doing this,” Buffy said, although she noticed she didn’t sound totally convinced. From the look Tara gave her Buffy figured Tara had heard it too. But she chose to ignore it in pursuit of getting Willow back. 

“Anyone check under the bed?” Xander asked. “That’s where I keep…. Where people keep private stuff.”

Anya glanced over her shoulder. “You mean like those magazine’s I’m not supposed to know about?” 

Buffy grinned and Tara ducked her head as Xander’s face flushed and he dropped quickly to his knees, half crawling under Willow’s bed. 

“If you’re going to hide stuff you should at least pick a better place than under the bed.” Anya’s hands came to rest on her hips. “I didn’t think people in relationships were supposed to have secrets from each other. You said we should always be honest but you’re hiding magazines from me and I don’t understand why. I’m not jealous of women in magazines. Besides, they could have some useful ideas for spicing things up. You know, sex wise. And …”

“And I don’t think me and Tara need to hear any more,” Buffy said quickly. 

“I’ve found something!” Xander’s excited voice came from beneath the bed.

Anya’s eyebrows raised. “Willow has magazines under her bed too?” 

“No,” Xander muttered, sitting back on his heels with a magic book in his hand. “Look, there’s a book mark in it.”

“Let’s see.” Buffy hurried to his side. 

Xander flipped the book to the marked page and Buffy leant over his shoulder to read the spell. “It’s a spell to repress memories,” Xander said. 

“That can’t be right, can it?” Tara took the book and stared at the page as though it would reveal the secrets of the universe to her. “Why would Willow want to repress her memories?” 

“Maybe she didn’t want to repress all of them. Maybe it was like the will be done spell where Willow's will was done but not in the way she wanted,” Anaya suggested. “What if instead of repressing one memory Willow somehow managed to repress all of them?”

Buffy frowned. “But why does she remember Spike? 

Anya shrugged. “Maybe the memory she wanted to repress had something to do with Spike?”

Xander made a face. “I'd like to repress all memories of Spike.” 

“It’s a bit of a shot in the dark, isn’t it?” Buffy said. “I mean, we don’t know this is the spell Willow cast. But I guess it’s worth looking into. We don’t have any other leads. Tara, can you tell if Willow cast this spell or not?” 

Tara shook her head. “There may be a way to do it, but I don’t know what it is. Anya, do you know…” 

“Look what I’ve found!” Anya turned from the bedside drawer waving a little leather bound book. “A diary. And look, it’s this year’s diary.”

A surprised look crossed Tara’s face. “I didn’t know Willow kept a diary.” 

“Neither did I,” Buffy said. 

“Do you think there could be something in it which will tell us what Willow’s done?” Xander wondered.

Buffy exchanged an uneasy look with Tara and Xander. They all knew reading Willow’s diary would be wrong but she also knew that each of them wanted to do it anyway. Did that make them bad friends? Buffy vividly remembered that moment she had believed Angel had read her diary and knew her inner most thoughts and feelings concerning him. She had felt humiliated and betrayed in equal measures. She of all people should not have this itch in her fingers to open Willow’s diary and devour its contents. Would she have the urge to read it if Willow wasn’t in trouble? Buffy genuinely didn’t know the answer. 

Xander cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve known Willow the longest, we have no real secrets. I’ll read it.”

“I’m Willow’s girlfriend,” Tara pointed out quietly. “Maybe I should be the one to read it?”

Buffy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m Willow’s best friend. We’ve always shared secrets, and sometimes there are things you don’t want your honey to know. It’ll be better if I read it.” 

Anya hugged the diary to her chest. “I found it. Besides, I’ve been around longer than any of you, nothing Willow could write could shock me. I’ll read it.” 

Tara plucked the diary from Anya’s hands and put it in her bag. “None of us will read it. We’ll take it to Giles and let him do it.”

“Good idea.” Buffy agreed. She figured Giles could probably keep a secret better than any of them. And Buffy knew in her heart she’d just be dying to talk to Willow about the entries if she read the diary. 

Tucking the magic book under his arm, Xander led the way from Willow’s house back to the Magic Box where they had left Giles and Dawn pouring over a mountain of text’s deep into research mode. 

Dawn had barely even looked up when they had left. She was totally focused on finding a way to bring Willow back. When the bell above the door jangled heralding their return she glanced up from the book she was reading, a jolt of excitement spearing down her spine when she saw Xander with the book. 

“Have you found something?” 

“Maybe. I found this magic book under Willow’s bed and it had a book mark sticking out of it. Here, Giles. What do you think?” 

Giles took the offered book and read through the spell with Dawn crowding his shoulder. “I’d say this is probably the first real break we’ve had.” 

Dawn grinned and bounced in her seat. “Great work, Detective Harris.” 

Xander grinned back. “You really think this could be the spell, Giles?” 

“Certainly. It’s a bit of a coincidence to find this in Willow’s room when her memories are all bound up with magic.” 

“Did Wesley ring when we were out?” Buffy asked hopefully, although she already knew the answer. Dawn would have told her as soon as she came through the door.  
Dawn shook her head. “Nothing new from L.A.” 

“So Willow hasn’t been in touch?” Tara asked, shoulders sagging a little as she took a seat at the table.

“Sorry, Tara.” Dawn patted her hand. 

“We found a diary.” Tara pulled it out of her bag. “We thought there might be some sort of clue in it.” 

“We thought you should be the one to read it, Giles.” Buffy said. 

Giles looked aghast. “You want me to read Willow’s diary?” 

“Maybe just the last few entries,” Buffy suggested. “There has to be an explanation for all of this and it could be right here.” She took the diary from Tara and trust it at Giles. “Everything we need to know could be in this little book.” 

An uncomfortable look crossed Dawn’s face, even though her eyes were lit with interest and glued to the diary. “It’s all in the name of helping Willow. I’m sure she won’t mind too much.” 

Taking the diary Giles got to his feet, lips pressed tightly together. “I’ll have the diary sent to Willow by special delivery first thing in the morning.”

Buffy’s jaw popped open and her eyes widened. She looked down at Tara and saw the same surprise on her face. Buffy winced. She really should have thought of that herself. She watched Giles cross the room to the phone, diary held firmly in his hand. Buffy knew he wasn’t about to let the diary out of his sight. It should hurt to think that Giles didn’t trust any of them with it, but she really couldn’t blame him. Sending the diary to Willow who was only a few hours away, was the obvious answer, but none of them had seen it. They had all been busy looking for plausible excuses to read the diary. 

She watched Giles dial and he leant against the counter, phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder. “Oh, good evening, Wesely. It’s Giles.” 

Buffy listened to Giles exchange pleasantries for a minute before he got to the point and discussed the spell they had found with Wesley. He read the spell out loud and Buffy could only assume by the slow tone, that Wesley must be copying it down. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. If Willow would be willing to participate again. Wonderful. I also have in my possession a diary of Willow’s. I intend to have it messengered to her first thing in the morning. Should Willow not be available to receive it can I trust you will take care of it until she comes back? Uh huh. Yes. It can be a temptation.” He cut his eyes at Buffy and she frowned. “Thank you, Wesley. Good bye.” 

“Well?” Dawn asked, leaning on her elbows over the table. “What did he say?” 

“He’s going to ask his friend Lorne to go back into Willow’s head and see if he can dig a little deeper. Willow didn’t appear to mind the last time so maybe she will be willing to allow it again.”


	9. Chapter 9

Spike became aware of the movement against his body in a slow drowsy way. The warmth permeating his skin was slipping away and he moved closer to it, curling around it, snuggling down against it. 

The movement became a little more insistent and Spike found himself in that hazy place between sleep and awake; he was awake enough to realise the wiggling warmth was Willow and she was trying to extract herself from his arms. He loosened his hold, tracking her easily without ever opening his eyes as she got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

He heard the sound of water; a tap running, a toilet flushing, the shower coming on and concluded Willow was getting herself ready for the day. It wasn’t morning, Spike could tell that much and he peered at the clock on Willow’s side of the bed; it was midday. Why was she up at such a Godforsaken hour anyway! 

Spike closed his eyes and half drifted back to sleep, his mind all fuzzy and his body relaxed. He shifted slightly into the warm patch Willow’s body had left behind. It was a novel experience, sleeping with a human. He quite liked being toasty warm. 

A short time later, Spike heard Willow re-enter the room. She was trying to be quiet, trying not to disturb him, but he was aware of her anyway. He heard the wardrobe door open and the soft clink of the hangers against the metal pole and then the door closed again. His tongue stole out to wet his lower lip at the gentle rustle of clothes as she dressed.  
A few beats later the bed dipped as she sat beside him and Spike felt her fingers comb through his hair.

“Spike? Are you awake?” 

“Hum.” 

“I’m going out for something to eat. Can I get you anything?” 

Spike peered up at her through hooded eyes. “Take a pack of my usual fags.” 

“Okay. Any whiskey?” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” She gave his hair another caress and brushed a soft kiss across his forehead before getting up. “Love you.” 

She didn’t wait for a response. Spike listened to her as she crossed the room and heard the quiet click which told him she had left. 

His chest felt suddenly tight and there was an ache and a longing in his bones for this, the intimacy of a relationship. What the hell was the wolf's problem? What had Glinda ever done to deserve the kind of love Willow could give? The kind of love he had longed for when he was human. 

Spike pushed the confusing, troubling thoughts away and settled down to sleep again. He was aware of it, even though he couldn’t seem to stop himself, when he curled an arm around Willow’s pillow, bringing it to where he could press his face into the soft down and breathe in her scent. 

When he finally drifted back to sleep, Spike’s dream was off. He dreamt of Buffy, which wasn’t unusual, except that she wasn’t exactly Buffy. This Buffy had fiery red hair and deep green bewitching eyes which sparkled with love when she looked at him. She smiled at him, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead and told him she loved him. 

But it wasn’t Buffy’s voice coming from her lips. It was Willow’s voice. 

Spike jerked awake, shaking his head to get rid of the lingering effects of his dream. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling for a while. This was ridiculous. He was letting himself get caught up in Willow’s fantasy life. It made sense, in a weird way. Since Dru had dumped him nobody had really cared about him. Spike chose to disregard Harmony. She hardly counted. Now he had Willow who loved him unconditionally. It didn’t take a genius to work out why he’d had this particular dream. 

But it wasn’t about Willow. Everything he did was for Buffy. He had to take extra special care of Willow, she’d tell Buffy how good he’d been to her and Buffy would start to realise she was wrong about him and he was someone she could love and be with. 

His hands came up to massage his temples and Spike froze. The chip. Willow had deactivated the chip. He wasn’t on a leash any more. What was Buffy going to think about that? It wasn’t something he could hide from her. Once Willow’s memories returned she’d tell Buffy what she had done. 

Spike considered the matter carefully, a small frown creasing his forehead. He decided the best way forward was to tell Buffy himself. That way Buffy would see that he could be honest with her and she could trust him. It could only work in his favour. 

It was a weekend, this time of day there was only one place Buffy would be. There was only one place they would all be; at The Magic Box researching like crazy. Scooping the phone out of the cradle from the bedside table, Spike dialled the number for The Magic Box.

“The Magic Box, Anya speaking. How can I help you?” 

“It’s Spike.” 

“Oh. You’re not going to buy anything. Has something happened? Where’s Willow?” 

Spike heard the commotion in the background and could image them all falling over each other to get to the phone, all worried about the witch. “She’s gone out. She’s fine. I need to speak to Buffy.” 

Spike didn’t really want to have this conversation with the other’s there, but if he was going to tell Buffy before he headed back to Sunnydale there was no other way. Catching her at her dorm was going to be tricky. 

There were muffled voices on the other end of the phone and the he heard a heavy sigh and Buffy’s voice came on the line. “What do you want, Spike?” 

Irritation coursed through him at the resigned patience in her tone. He wasn’t calling about Willow and therefore she had no time for him. Still he couldn’t stop himself. If he had any sense he’d simply hang up, but he needed to tell her. He didn’t sugar coat it, or talk around the subject, she’d still annoyed him and his immediate reaction was to annoy her right back double. 

“Chip’s fried. Willow did it.” 

Buffy was silent for so long that if it hadn’t been for her breathing Spike would have thought she’d put the phone down and walked away, leaving him talking to fresh air.  
“Why am I surprised! Of course, you’re chip free. Of course, you got Willow to get rid of it for you. It’s just the kind of thing you’d do, isn’t it? Willow’s vulnerable, she thinks she’s in love with you. She thinks she’s married to you and you took advantage of her. Willow’s always been nice to you. She tried to stop you staking yourself, although why is still a complete mystery to me. We’d all be better off without you around. Why did I let this happen?” Buffy exclaimed, her voice thick with disbelief. “Why did I allow you to go to L.A. with her? I should have seen this coming. I should have known you’d do something despicable because you always do. It’s who you are. If I catch you in Sunnydale again there’ll be no more deals, I’ll stake you where you stand. I’m warning you, Spike, stay away. And if you so much as look at Willow the wrong way I’ll stake you! If you hurt her, Spike I’ll come after you no matter where you go!” 

As her words pounded against his ears Spike realised, as if there had ever been a chance it would have been otherwise, that Buffy would always be the Slayer and he would always be a vampire. Buffy wouldn’t ever look at him or see him the way she did Angel no matter what he did for her.

Buffy was still yelling but Spike wasn’t paying attention to her. He hung up, a frown on his face. He should be heart broken, he should be looking to crawl into the bottom of a bottle like he did when Dru had left him; but the same feeling of despair just wasn’t there.

A few minutes later Spike heard running footsteps in the corridor and the bedroom door flew open. Angel stood in the doorway, face dark, eyebrows drawn together. With a roll and a leap Spike was over the bed and on his feet. The bed between him and Angel. 

“Let me guess, Slayer been tellin’ tales on me?” 

He should have known Buffy would call back and tell Angel about his chip, worried he might hurt Angel’s pet humans and Willow. Angel’s humans were nothing to him, but a wave of indignant anger washed over him that Buffy could think he would hurt Willow. She didn’t know him. Had never known him. Had never been interested in knowing him. 

Somehow that didn’t hurt the way it should. 

“Buffy told us about you manipulating Willow if that’s what you mean.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Spike snapped crossly. “I didn’t manipulate her. Willow came up with a way to fry the chip and it worked. She’s just helpin’ the man she loves,” he added with a cheeky grin.

Angel scowled. “She doesn’t love you, Spike. It’s magic. Only magic could make someone like Willow think she loves you.” 

“You sayin’ I’m not good enough for her?” 

An incredulous look crossed Angel’s face. “Well of course I am! It’s you, Spike.” 

“Cos I’m not all broodin’ an’ tortured an’ what all with a soddin’ soul I’m not good enough for Willow, huh?” 

“Well, yeah.” Angel spread his hands wide. “You don’t have a soul and now you don’t have a chip. There’s nothing stopping you from hurting Willow. Or Wes, Cordy, Gunn and Fred for that matter.” 

“Actually, I think you’ll find there is something stoppin’ me from hurtin’ Willow and all your little mates as it happens.” 

“And what’s that?” Angel shot back, disbelief etched clearly on his face.

“Me.” 

Angel didn’t respond. He stared at Spike for a long moment as if he was trying to figure something out. Then he shook his head. “I can’t take that risk, Spike. Your whims and flights of fancy are as fleeting as a shadow. One bad mood and this place is a blood bath.” He came into the room, closing the door behind him an air of menace surrounding him.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You supposed to be scary?” 

“I don’t need to be scary to do what I’m going to do.” 

“Gonna kill me, Angel? That it?” Spike taunted. 

“No. I’m just going to take out the trash.” 

Spike scowled. “C’mon then. Let’s see what you got, Soul Boy.” 

Spike came from behind the bed and he and Angel rushed each other. It was oddly familiar. They had fought many times over the years for many reasons. Sometimes just for the hell of it. They never held back and Angel put the full force of this strength behind every blow. Spike was never one to hold back either and met Angel on the same playing field. It was violent, as only fights between demons can be. It was glorious, in a way only a fight between him and Angel could be. It was deliciously satisfying, as only punching Angel could be. 

Angel managed to get in a sneaky upper cut sending Spike stumbling backwards into the table. The table upended under his weight and Spike and table went crashing to the floor. Angel was looming over him, reaching for him when a sharp cry made them both pause and then suddenly Angel was flying through the air and crashed face first into the wall.  
Spike’s eyes went to the door to find Willow standing there, eyes wide, lips parted. Her arms were outstretched and shaking violently as tears trickled down her cheeks. She looked at Spike, bloodied and bruised and the tears fell harder.

“Spike?” 

His name had been spoken in fear many times over the last century, but never like this. Never had it tugged at his heart this way. Willow wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid of herself, of the magic she had used. 

Spike scrambled to his feet and Willow tottered forward, fingers flexing in anticipation of getting hold of him. 

“It’s all right, love,” Spike assured her, wrapping his arms around her, hugging her close. “Just a little bit of magic, that’s all. Angel’s all right, aren’t you, Angel?”

Angel had pulled himself to his feet. He was leaning against the wall watching them, an expression of surprise and sympathy on face. Hearing Spike call him by his name was enough to let Angel know things were serious. As if he’d needed the heads up. Willow blasting him with magic was hardly normal. 

“I’m fine. Really, Willow. I’m okay.” 

Willow took a shaking breath. “What… What did I do?” 

“Nothin’ to get yourself all worked up over,” Spike promised. “Seen you do bigger spells without breakin’ a sweat.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Willow snivelled, tightening her hold on Spike. “It just happened. I just wanted to help you and then…” she paused and waved a hand in the air. “I don’t understand.” 

“Told you love, you’re a witch. Witches do magic.” 

“Shouldn’t I have to recite some words to cast a spell?” 

“I know you don’t remember,” Angel said softly, moving slowly towards her so as not to spook her, “but magic is a part of you. Big spells require incantations and ingredients, but something little like that, some sort of instinct must just be in you to have done it.” 

“I don’t like it,” Willow said. “I don’t like not having control of myself and doing weird things.” 

“Don’t worry,” Spike stroked her hair lightly. “Angel will behave himself from now on and do everythin’ he can not to upset you again. Won’t you, Angel?” 

Angel grit his teeth, Spike was all but grinning at him. It always rankled when Spike manged to gain the upper hand. He looked again at Willow, took in her wide watery eyes, the fear inside her making her heart beat quickly. 

“We’ll come up with some ground rules while Spike’s here,” Angel said firmly. 

Spike rolled his eyes. “You and you’re bloody rules.” 

What she had done was, in reality, as easy as breathing for her, but Willow didn’t remember. She had been told she was a witch but to perform magic when she had no memory of ever doing it before was clearly upsetting for her and the first thing she had wanted was Spike. Even though she had memories of him it was Spike she looked to for comfort; Spike was the most constant, solid thing in her life right now and Angel didn’t have it in him to take that away from her.


	10. Chapter 10

It said a lot, so far as Spike was concerned, that Angel simply let things go. Willow’s distress was obvious and he didn’t need to be a demon to see it. She peered almost shyly at Angel around Spike’s side and it unsettled him. Willow was big with the apologises and when she couldn’t think of something to say she said anything that came into her head; she was too quiet for his liking. 

He didn’t push her and neither did Angel. Angel picked up the broken table, gave a spare shake of his head to indicate it didn’t matter and quietly left the room.   
Willow still didn’t speak. She stayed quiet and docile in his arms, regulating her breathing, Spike listened to the deliberate breaths she took as the tension in her body slowly began to dissipate. 

“Do I do that a lot?” she asked at length. 

“No,” Spike assured her. “Bloody good though, seeing old Peaches sailin’ into the wall like that.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “I just wanted to help you.” 

“You did.” 

“I got your cigarette’s, Spike.” Willow finally released him to fish the packet out of her purse. 

“Thanks, pet.” He didn’t particularly want one, but Spike went ahead and lit one up anyway, it gave him the excuse to cross the room and put a little distance between them. “Where’d you go?”

“Just out for tacos with Fred. She’s really nice, Spike and she’s really smart too.” 

“That’s good.” 

Willow let out a sigh and went to the mirror to examine her red eyes. “Have I ever told you what it’s like to do magic?” 

“No, why?” 

Willow shivered and turned to face him. “I didn’t like it. You know, what I just did.”

“That’s just because you weren’t expectin’ it an’ you thought you hurt Angel. No need to worry about him, pet, it takes a lot more than that to hurt a vampire.” 

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But it felt weird, Spike. Like some sort of alien force inside me, like it didn’t belong inside me.” 

Spike was silent, he wasn’t quite sure what to say to her. Willow had never told him what she had felt when she had first tapped into her magic, maybe her magic was supposed to feel that way and she had just gotten used to it over time. 

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” She said after a while. “Me not remembering anything.”

He nodded. She looked like Willow, she smelt like Willow, sometimes she even sounded like Willow. But she didn’t feel like Willow. There was a huge part of her missing and it rubbed him up the wrong way in spite of the fact her lack of memories had worked out in his favour where the chip was concerned. 

“I see what it’s doin’ to you. I see how scared you are even though you’re pretendin’ different.” A kernel of surprise flickered in his chest. “I always see when you’re hangin’ on by a thread.” 

She dug her fingers into her scalp with a small sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. “I hate it. I hate not remembering. I hate feeling like a stranger in my own body. I hate looking at you and only having little flashes instead of my whole memory.” 

“You got two Watcher’s on the case, they’ll crack it. Watcher’s always do. It won’t be too much longer until your all you again.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Tell you what,” Spike got to his feet as a new thought occurred to him. “Can’t do much ‘bout you not rememberin’, but I can give you a new memory.” 

Her head tilted, a curious look crossing her face. “What do you mean?” 

“Let’s go out. Just the two of us. Make a memory. What do you say?” 

The sadness left her eyes, her entire face lighting up. “Oh yes, Spike. I’d like that. Where shall we go? What shall we do?” 

“Go anywhere you want. Do anything you want. We’re in L.A. always something goin’ on. What do you fancy?” 

“There was a flyer in the diner Fred took me to advertising the fun fair down on the pier. We could go there.” 

“C’mon then, let’s go.” 

He smiled as she practically bounced across the room to take hold of his arm, a feeling of relaxation washing over him. Although he usually attended fun fairs for a more bloodthirsty type of fun he could still show her a good time, help her forget about her problems for a while. 

There was a commotion in the foyer as they descended the stairs. Wesley was rushing around with a book in his hand, Fred was crouched over Cordelia as she rubbed at her temples while Angel and Gunn were at the weapons cabinet. 

Fred looked up as they entered. “Cordelia had a vision.” 

Willow griped Spike’s arm a little tighter as she sucked in a breath and silently prayed they wouldn’t ask her to help them. She was aware from both Spike and Angel that she’d used magic a lot to help in a crisis and avert an apocalypse, but after what she had done to Angel without even trying Willow didn’t like the idea of going out into the field and using magic. She could cause more harm than good. If she was even able to do anything. She still wasn’t sure how she had manged to whammy Angel.

“No need to worry,” Spike said with a wave of his hand. “Crime Fightin’ Peaches to the rescue.” 

Angel never looked up from the weapons. “Shut it, Spike.” 

“Apocoplyse?” Spike asked. He glanced at Willow, she hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t offered to help and he thought he understood why. Magic frightened her and that frightened him. Willow could be a fearless little thing, seeing her afraid of her own ability, one she had taken great pride in, was, to quote the lady herself; ooky. 

“It’s always possible,” Cordelia replied.“There’s always another apocalypse to stop. Demons are all so predictably boring. Why don’t they try something else other than destroying the world?”

“Dunno. Ask Peaches. He had the same notion once upon a Sunnydale,” Spike said with a smirk at Angel’s suddenly tense back. “Well, off you go, Peaches. I got a date with my girl an’ I don’t want a soddin’ apocalypse to ruin it.” 

“God forbid,” Wesley muttered as he zoomed through reception again. 

Willow cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders she looked straight at Fred. “Is… is there anything we can do?” 

“I’ve think you’ve done enough, unleashing the evil undead and bringing him into our home,” Cordelia snapped. 

“It’s okay, Willow,” Angel said, turning to face her. “You go out and have a nice time. Don’t worry about anything. The vision didn’t seem too serious, right Cordy?” 

Cordelia looked confused, but she nodded anyway.

Angel didn’t have to say anything, Spike understood what wasn’t being said. Keep Willow out of the way. A witch who had no control over her magic was more of a hindrance than a help and if they went along and he got himself in a spot of bother Willow would try to help again and God only knew what she would accidentaly do this time. 

Relieved, Willow allowed Spike to lead her from the hotel. Angel was her friend, she wanted to help him, it was the right thing to do; but she had no idea how she could be useful. She couldn’t fight, at least she didn’t remember it if she could. She didn’t like using magic and had no control over it anyway. She’d spend more time underfoot than actually helping. Besides, if Spike went off with Angel and left her behind she’d be too busy worrying about him to be of any use. It was best to let Angel get on with things in his own way. 

They made their way down to the pier, the bright lights and the air filled with the sound of people enjoying themselves was like a beacon to Willow. She wanted to put the last couple of days out of her mind for now and focus on something other than the gaping hole in her memory. Willow knew that she should be researching through Wesley’s books looking for a cure, but the idea of spending another night surrounded by books and no answers just depressed her even more. 

Willow’s anxiety left her as she breathed deeply the scent of frying onions, cotton candy and pop corn. It was an odd mixture but it fuelled her desire for fun. To just spend time with Spike and not worry about anything else. 

Spike bought her cotton candy and they wandered amongst the booths and the stalls pausing every now and then to watch a new round of people step up to a game and attempt to win a stuffed animal. 

“I bet you could win all of these games, couldn’t you, Spike?”

Spike grinned. Her absolute certainty that he could do anything was touching and a nice boost to his ego which hadn’t just been flagging lately but dragging along in the sodding gutter. “When you turn you get better hand-eye coordination as well as being faster and stronger. These games are child’s play for a vamp.” 

She smiled popped the last bit of cotton candy in her mouth and licked her fingers. She crumpled the bag and dropped it into a trash can as they walked by. 

“Would I be any good at them?” 

Spike chuckled. “No offense, pet, but from what I’ve seen coordination in any form isn’t really your thing.” 

Willow laughed. “That’s a very nice way of saying I’m rubbish.” 

“Well,” Spike made a gesture. “Didn’t wanna come right out an’ say it, being a gentleman an’ all.” 

“Oh, of course,” Willow looked up at him. “You’ve got years of practice behind you at these kind of games. You are one hundred and twenty six after all.”

“Can’t say I spent the last century goin’ to the fair, pet. But yeah, been to a few over the years. They don’t change, not really. So, what do you wanna do first, roller coaster?” 

“Do I like roller coasters?”

“Don’t know,” Spike admitted. “We’ve never talked about it.” 

After she gave the matter some considerable thought, Willow decided to try the roller coaster. It was something Spike obviously enjoyed doing. Looking up at the fast moving carts rattling along the track Willow couldn’t really see where the fun was to be had, but she was willing to try it for Spike. 

Spike was more amused with Willow than he was impressed by the ride. She reacted just as he had suspected with squeals and clutching at his arm and squeezing her eyes shut. That didn’t last long, not being able to see where she was going didn’t help. 

He was openly laughing when they disembarked. “Wanna go again?” 

“Um, not right now,” Willow said, one hand on his arm and the other pressed against her stomach. 

“Want something to eat?” 

She frowned at him. “It’s not fair that vampires don’t get queasy.” 

He laughed again, tucking her under his arm. “You’ll be all right, just a bit shaky is all. How about something slower?” he suggested when they came abreast of the carousel. He didn’t give her time to reply, simply urged her through the gate and onto the ride.

The carousel was large, with horses in all manner of poses with leather reins and saddles edged in gold with the horses’ name scrawled along it. 

Spike ignored the horses and guided her towards one of the carriages instead. He didn’t think going up and down like a pogo stick was going to help her right now. The carriage closest to them was white, edged with golden leaves and Willow sat on the hard plastic seat, leaning in against him as she settled in for the ride. 

“More your speed?” 

He was still chuckling at her but Willow didn’t mind. “Yes, I prefer this. But I’ll go on the roller coaster again if you want to.” 

“Once is enough,” Spike smoothed her hair absently, glad Angel wasn’t there to see him on a bloody carousel. 

They focused on the games after their ride on the carousel. Willow was, as Spike had predicted, pretty useless at them, but she had fun playing and Spike figured that was the whole point. He had a lot of fun watching her. There was a game where she had to throw darts at playing cards and get a certain number to win the prize. Spike couldn’t stop laughing. Her darts didn’t even get near the board. 

“Maybe throwin’ isn’t your forte, love.” 

It turned out whack-a-mole wasn’t really her forte either, although she did much better with that game than with the darts. When she spotted a stuffed tiger on the ring toss, she let Spike play. He won her the tiger with ease and Willow beamed when he handed it to her. 

“Anythin’ else you want?” 

A smile suddenly curled her lips and she pointed. 

Spike looked over his shoulder and he grinned at the group of men clustered together. “The test of strength game?” 

She nodded. “Yes, go on, Spike.” 

Spike couldn’t resist. It wasn’t about winning, they both knew the game was as easy as popping a balloon for him, but showing up the posers and preeners really appealed to him. There was a man at the game who had just taken a turn, he was large with bugling muscles. He hadn’t won, but it appeared he’d done the best so far. He gave Spike the once over clearly unimpressed with Spike’s slender build and wiry frame. 

Spike didn’t even pretend to find the hammer heavy. He didn’t even bother to take off his coat, he wasn’t there to pose and flex and impress any of the women hanging around watching. He was out for fun. He swung the hammer easily and a beat later the little bell rung. 

The large man looked astounded. The crowd cheered and Spike accept the big stuffed teddy bear for his prize not even attempting to hide his smug amusement when he passed the other men. Most were good sports and clapped, others were clearly annoyed. It all amused Spike. 

“You want me to carry it? Mite big for you, pet.” 

“Yes please, Spike.” Willow slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Can I get something to eat now?” 

“Anythin’ you like. What do you fancy?” 

She chose a hot dog and fries, mostly because it was the nearest food stall and she was hungry. They wandered down onto the pier for her to eat, taking a seat on a bench near the railing where they could look out over the quietly rolling waves of the ocean, the lights from the pier reflecting off the water. Spike picked at her fries, his one arm stretched out along the back of the bench where he sat between Willow and the big stuffed teddy bear with the tiger on his lap. If the demon community could see him now, he thought dryly. He reached out to claim a lock of Willow’s hair, curling it absently around his finger.

“Thank you, Spike. I needed this. But, well, do you think we should go back and make sure everything’s okay with Angel? I feel a bit bad leaving him and the others to deal with the crisis. Whatever it was.” 

“Angel will be all right. He always is,” Spike muttered. “But if you’ve had enough, we can go back. It’s gettin’ a bit late anyway.” 

“Can we ride the ferris wheel one time before we go?” 

“Can ride it fifty times before we go if you like.” 

Leaning over she kissed his cheek. “Oh, and I saw a photo booth down there,” she pointed towards the entrance of the pier. “Can we get a photo, Spike?”

“Sure, pet. Anythin’ you want.” He stood up, tucking the teddy under one arm and Willow under the other. She hugged the tiger to her chest and curled in against him.   
They had their photo taken and Willow waited eagerly for the four little pictures to pop out of the machine. Spike watched her as she collected them, staring down at them for a moment, her fingers gently brushing the glossy surface, a soft little smile on her face. She folded them carefully, being sure not to crease the photos and put them away in her purse. 

“Ferris wheel time,” she announced, taking his hand. 

Spike glanced down at her small hand tucked into his. She held his fingers with a sense of certainty and rightness, as if she always did it. As if this was the way it was meant to be. It made his stomach do weird things he didn’t want to think about. 

The ferris wheel was clearly Willow’s favourite ride so far. She sat back quietly as they moved upwards but halfway up she leant forward a little over the bar to stare out at the City of Angels dark and glistening spread out before her. She let out a breath. “It’s lovely, isn’t it, Spike? You know, I don’t think you have it all bad, only seeing the world at night. It’s more private somehow, as if it only belongs to us.” 

His hand ran down the back of her head and Willow glanced across at him, her eyes meeting his; beautiful blue eyes which she’d loved from the moment she saw how vulnerable they could look. They made her feel safe. They made her feel alive. They made her feel happy.

Spike closed the gap between them, brushing his lips across hers in a fleeting caress. It was like having the fresh blood of a virgin on his lips and being told he couldn’t lick. He knew what kissing Willow was like and he wanted more of it. 

He kissed her again, his mouth claiming hers, deepening the kiss until she sank against his chest with a little sound of pleasure. Her arms slid around his neck as the taste of her swept his mouth and his fingers tightened briefly in her hair. Fire sparked in his stomach. Desire rolled through his veins. Willow pulled back a little to breathe, her face flushed. He took her elbow as the ride slowed for them to disembark and she clutched at the tiger with one hand, the other actively searching for a place to touch him. 

When they found themselves back amongst the crowd Willow paused to look up at him. Her green eyes were hot with awareness but Spike could see the softness there too as her feelings simmered just beneath the surface. When she looked at him like that, as though he were her whole world, she made him feel like he was floating on water. 

“Perhaps we’d better head back, Spike.” 

Spike glanced down as her fingers slid through his and it suddenly hit him like a rogue wave; the reason Buffy’s tirade hadn’t hurt the way it should. The reason Buffy’s rejection hadn’t sent him chasing oblivion at the bottom of a bottle. The same reason he refused to tell Willow the truth. 

He wasn’t floating with her. He was bloody drowning in her.


	11. Chapter 11

The Hyperion was quiet when Willow and Spike returned. Only Angel and Wesley were in the foyer and Willow felt a prickle of unease wash over her skin as guilt began to rear its head. If something bad had happened to any of the others she wasn’t sure she could live with herself for not being there and at least attempting to help. 

Spike didn’t seem to have the same concerns. 

“All done with the do-gooding, Peaches? World all nice an’ safe?” 

Angel glanced up, a look of surprise crossing his face at the giant teddy bear tucked under Spike’s arm. “Nice teddy.” 

Spike frowned, he really should have seen that one coming. 

“Where is everyone?” Willow asked. 

“Fred and Gunn have gone up to bed and Cordelia has gone home.” Wesley told her taking a sip of tea. “Willow, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked Lorne to come over when his club closes for the night. I’d like him to try and dig a little deeper inside your head and see if he can find out what happened to you. Your friends have discovered a diary in your room and Giles is sending it to me by special delivery. I understand the diary should be with us some time tomorrow for you to read through. There may be a clue there as to why or how this has happened to you.” 

Willow let out a sigh. “I don’t mind Lorne going back inside my head. It’s a bit difficult to research for a solution when we don’t even know what the problem is. Maybe he can find something.” 

“It appears,” Wesley spoke softly to ensure he didn’t come across as accusing in any way. “That you may have done this to yourself as we had first feared. Xander found a book with a marked page of a spell to repress memories. I feel, as does Giles, that it’s too much of a coincidence.” 

Willow nodded, a guilty flush creeping into her cheeks. “I think you’re right, Wesley. I’m responsible for my own memory loss. I got myself into this mess and I’ve dragged everyone into it. You’ve all been so nice to drop what you’re doing to try and help me.” 

Wesley waved a hand. “Not at all. You’ve done your fair share of saving the world and helping us out, Willow. We’ll always return the favour. It’s what we do. We help each other.” 

“Besides,” Angel smiled softly at her. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did for me. You were lying in your hospital bed, still new to magic and you were willing to try such a big spell to give me back my soul. I’ll always owe you for that.”

Willow smiled back, moving from Spike’s side she held out a hand to Angel, grasping his larger one between her fingers. “You’re my friend, Angel. Friends help each other.” 

Spike’s eyebrows pulled together as he watched Willow’s delicate hand disappear inside Angel’s great big paw. Things were getting a mite too cosy for his liking. Before he could form a suitably snide remark to aim at Angel, the poof spoke again. 

“Willow, we don’t know for certain what you did. I mean, why you did it. I think I can safely guess the result was not what you were going for. You may have been trying to cast the spell for someone else. Whatever it was, you didn’t do this on purpose and you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. We all make mistakes.”

“You’ve made more than most.” To Spike’s annoyance, Angel simply nodded his agreement. 

“The important thing is to fix it,” Wesley said. “And we will.” He smiled and gave her cuddly tiger a pointed look. “You had a productive time at the fair I see.” 

“Yes. Well, Spike won them. He’s much better than I am,” Willow said generously. 

“We’ll just pop these upstairs,” Spike said, taking hold of her elbow and drawing her back towards the stairs. “Before Lorne gets here. Give us a shout when he arrives, Percy old boy.”

Wesley looked startled. “Percy? It’s Wesley.” 

Angel rolled his eyes. “He knows, Wes. Just ignore him.” 

Letting his hand rest on the small of her back, Spike guided Willow up the stairs and across the landing to their room. When they entered the bedroom Willow took the giant teddy from him and set both cuddly toys on the floor near the window before sitting on the bed and taking off her shoes, wiggling her feet a little. 

“I’m sorry, Spike.” 

“Huh? What for?” 

She shrugged, her mouth dipping down at the corners. “For causing this mess and dragging you here to see Angel.”

He took a seat next to her, fingers smoothing her hair. She let out a little sigh and her head came to rest on his shoulder. Spike had a flashback of sitting with her like this once before; on a bed, stroking her hair only it had been his head on her shoulder, he had been the one filled with misery. Knowing what he did now, Spike figured he should have just scooped her up and taken her away with him that night. Forgotten all about Dru. Left her to her own devices in Brazil and started a new chapter of his un-life with Willow. She would have been different then, her magic not as strong so she couldn’t have fought against him. She would have seen him, the real him with just the two of them together, traveling the world and she would have learnt to love him and not really mind that their new life had started off as a kidnapping. Willow would have understood eventually. They’d have been happy. 

It was typical that he hadn’t seen the potential for happiness staring him in the face. Too wrapped up in Dru. 

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s all worked out in its own way.” 

She looked up, a confused expression on her face. “What do –"

Spike caught her cheek, his thumb stroking at the corner of her mouth, his free arm settling around her waist drawing her against him as he kissed her. She sank against him, her arms curling around his neck, offering no resistance when his weight carried her down to the bed. 

As her tongue touched to his, Spike let his fingers wander into her hair, angling her head back when he felt her chest expand so he could work his way along her jaw and down her neck to her throat. He nuzzled the space where her neck met her shoulder. Lingered over her pulse, pulling the skin into his mouth, tongue stroking against the beating pulse. 

His lips touched to her throat, parting, absorbing the soft moan vibrating beneath her skin. 

He kissed the underside of her chin, moving back to her mouth, catching her lower lip between his teeth and sucking on it lightly. 

Her hands were everywhere; running through his hair, fingers pressing into his scalp. Smoothing the back of his neck, tracing the shape of his shoulders, digging into his shoulder blades as he deepened his kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. 

Spike backed off again when she began struggling to breathe. Propping himself on his elbow he brushed her hair from her forehead, his hand moulding itself to her head over her temple where he could use his thumb to trace the soft arch of her eyebrow and the line of her nose, sweeping lightly across he delicate skin beneath her eye causing her eyes to automatically close at the close proximity of his thumb, her eyelashes brushing his skin. 

He kissed her closed eyelids, feeling them flutter against his lips. He kissed her nose and the corner of her eye. He kissed her cheek and her jaw, moving back down her neck, pulling at the neckline of her t-shirt so he could get to her collar bone, taking it between his teeth and nibbling gently until she shivered and gripped tighter to his shoulders. 

Her fingers slid into his hair, curling around the bleached locks and tugging his head up. Spike went willingly, a sound of pleasure rumbling in his chest when she drew his mouth back to hers and kissed him, her tongue tracing the soft cushion of his lower lip before dipping inside and stroking his own. 

Her leg hooked over his and she rubbed against him with a little sound of longing. Spike knew he should stop kissing her, he knew it was going too far. He could feel the heat of her through his clothes and all he wanted was to wrap her body around him and keep her there all-night long. 

A knock at the door brought him out of his Willow haze. He broke the kiss with a frown. “What?”

“It’s Wesley. There’s a telephone call for Willow. It’s Tara.” 

“Coming,” Willow called out.

It was like a bucket of ice water had tipped down his spine. Away from Sunnydale Spike had forgotten all about Glinda the boring witch. It wasn’t just a matter of convincing Willow she wanted to be with him once her memories returned. He had to convince her to leave Tara too. Willow, for reasons Spike had never been able to fathom, thought she was in love with Tara. 

Tara was harmless. She was nice enough. A fade into the wall-paper type of person. Nowhere near exciting enough for his little firecracker. He’d be able to convince Willow he was the right one for her, wouldn’t he? 

Spike frowned as Willow, still panting a little, sat up and straightened her t-shirt. Over a century with Drusilla and he wasn’t able to convince her to stay. Going against his very nature and helping Buffy hadn’t convince her to even like him never mind love him. Why would it be any different with Willow once she was back to normal? 

Willow pulled on her shoes and took his hand, giving him a small tug to indicate she wanted him to go with her. 

Spike smiled, curling his fingers around hers. Drusilla was crazy. Buffy had never given him a chance. Willow wasn’t crazy and this was his chance to show her what being with him would really be like. 

Wesley hadn’t waited, he was heading down the stairs when Willow and Spike emerged from the bedroom. Angel was still in the foyer when they came down the stairs and Wesley was sitting behind Cordelia’s desk talking to Angel and gesturing at the computer. 

“I really have no idea how to work Cordelia’s system. She says she has a system. I really don’t think she does. Oh, it’s my phone, Willow, on my desk. You’ll have some privacy in my office.”

“Thank you, Wesley.” Willow smiled at Angel, released Spike and headed into Wesley’s office. 

Spike watched Angel watch Willow, a deep disapproving frown crossing his face. Spike grinned, Willow’s hair was all messed up from having his hands in it and her lips were bee stung from his kisses. His hair was probably all tousled as well. Angel didn’t need to be a vampire to know what had taken place behind their bedroom door.  
Feeling suddenly hungry, and figuring he’d better keep up appearances, Spike headed into the kitchen to pilfer some of Angel’s martyred stash of blood. 

Angel cut his eyes at Spike’s retreating back. He had just made up his mind to follow Spike and have it out with him about Willow and continue their discussion about the chip, or argument, Angel didn’t really care which way Spike wanted to play it, he was happy to accommodate; when he felt Willow’s eyes on him. 

Glancing at her through the glass windows of Wesley’s office, Angel had the feeling by the intensity of her stare, that Willow didn’t trust him. At least not where Spike was concerned. If he followed Spike now Angel knew with utter certainty Willow would abandon her phone call and come after him. Maybe send some more wild magic his way. It was best to pick his moment. Angel let it lie. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Willow. It’s me, Tara. How’s it all going in L.A?”

“Fine, thanks,” Willow said, leaning her hip against the desk, eyes on Angel. “How’s Sunnydale?” 

“Everyone’s okay. Nothing much to report here,” Tara said. “We miss you. All of us. We wish you were here.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Tara cleared her throat. “Did Wesley tell you about the spell book and diary we found?” 

“Yes, he mentioned it when I got back tonight.” 

“Back?” 

“Spike and I went down to the fun fair on the pier. We rode the roller coaster and I had cotton candy and Spike,” she paused and laughed at the memory, “Spike played the test of strength game. You should have seen some of their faces. Some of the men were huge, much bigger than Spike. They didn’t think he’d be able to do much and he wiped the floor with them. It’s not exactly cheating, Spike can’t help being strong any more than Buffy can.” 

“The… the fun fair?” Tara echoed. “You spent the evening at the fun fair?”

“That’s right. Why?” 

“Well, I … um…. I would have…. Have thought you would have been researching. You know, to find a way to…. To undo the spell.” 

Willow frowned. “I can’t research a solution when I don’t know exactly what the problem is. It’s inconvenient that I can’t remember anything but it’s not exactly a life threatening situation, is it?”

“I thought…”

“Besides, it’s my memory, if I want to go for a night out with my husband that’s my business not yours.” 

She was busy researching, trying desperately to find a way to bring her girlfriend back and Willow was out at fun fairs without a thought to regaining her memories. The worst thing was that Tara could understand it, after all, Willow believed she remembered the most important person in her life.Tara wished she had never asked Spike to go along with Willow’s fantasy. “I didn’t mean….”

“Is Buffy there?” Willow asked shortly. 

“Buffy? Yes, she… she’s here.” 

“Can I speak with her please?”

The curt tone told Tara that Willow no longer wished to speak with her. If she tried pushing then Willow might hang up and refuse to speak to any of them again. “Of course,” she said sadly. “Just a minute.” 

Willow heard the phone hitting what she assumed was a table as Tara went off to find Buffy. Willow’s fingers flexed over the phone as she tried to push away her irritation. She’d had such a nice night and she wasn’t willing to allow Tara to spoil it for her. 

She heard a noise on the other end and then a voice. “Hey, Wills, it’s Xan. Buffy won’t be long, she’s in the bathroom. I’ll take my turn first, okay?” 

“How are you, Xan?” 

Xandersighed. “It’s weird here without you, Wills. Are you sure you don’t want to come back now? As in right this second? I need my Willster.”

Willow smiled. “It’s weird there for me, Xander. There’s all these people and places I’m supposed to remember and I don’t. It’s depressing. And it’s a bit scary.” 

“I get it. I do. Really,” Xander assured her. “L.A. is easier for you. Only Wesley and Cordy there you don’t remember. You’d probably be happy to forget Cordy and lets face it, you aren’t missing much by not remembering Wesley.” Xander chuckled. 

“Hum, issues with Wesley?” 

“He’s a prat,” Xander said with another chuckle. 

“He doesn’t seem like one,” Willow said, sending a confused look in Wesley’s direction. 

“Trust me on this,” Xander said. “Oh, here’s Buffy. Anya and Giles say hey. See you soon, Wills. Bye.” 

“Bye, Xander.”

“Wills, hey!” Buffy was almost bouncing. Willow had actually asked to speak to her. That could only be of the good. “How’s it going?”

“I like L.A.” Willow admitted. “Fred, she works for Angel, is very nice. She invited me for tacos today.” 

A wave of envy washed over Buffy, she wanted to go for tacos or mocha’s or anything really, with Willow. She missed her best friend. “That’s nice. You’re making friends.”

“Kind of,” Willow said. “Cordelia doesn’t seem to like me very much.” 

“Oh, that’s just Cordelia,” Buffy said dismissively. “Don’t worry about her. Any progress with the research?” 

“Maybe later tonight. Lorne is coming back over to try and go deeper into my head. If he can extract the spell I used from my memory then we’ll be able to reverse it much easier and quicker. I’d like to know why I did this,” Willow said. “What reason could I possibly have?” 

“I’m sure it was a good one,” Buffy assured her. “And I’m sure you didn’t mean for it to turn out this way.” 

“Probably not,” Willow agreed. “Buffy, um, I think I owe you an apology.” 

“You do? Why?” 

“Lorne seems to think it was the restoration spell that allows me to remember Angel, he says it’s a very personal piece of magic because his soul passed through mine to get to him.”

“Makes sense,” Buffy agreed. “But where does the apology come into it?” 

“When I got here Angel told me about the two of you. My coming to L.A. gave you a legitimate reason to come here too and see him. I pretty much told you not to come. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I denied you the chance to see Angel again.”

“It’s okay, Willow,” Buffy said softly, tears stinging her eyes, it was like talking to the real Willow. “It’s probably for the best anyway. Being around Angel, having to leave him, not being with him; well, it can’t be good for me, can it? It’s only going to hurt.” 

“I’m still sorry. I’m sorry for you both.”

“I know. You’ve always been supportive of me and Angel. You were there for me every step of the way and I never really thanked you for it. I just took it, took you, for granted because you’re my best friend and supportive comes with the job description. It never occurred to me what life would be like without you. I owe you an apology too. I wasn’t there for you after Oz left, when you really needed me. I let you down and I’m sorry, Wills.” 

“Oz?”

Buffy let out a groan. “I make a heartfelt apology and you don’t even remember why I’m the worst friend ever.” 

Willow laughed. “I’m sure you’re not the worst friend ever, Buffy. It’ll make sense to me soon enough I expect.”

“Fingers and toes crossed. So, anything exciting going on down there?” Buffy didn’t want the conversation to end yet, even hearing about Angel, as raw as that made her heart feel, was worth it to talk to Willow a little bit longer. 

Willow told Buffy about her night with Spike. 

Buffy could hardly believe it. After she had told Wesley about Spike manipulating Willow into deactivating the chip Angel had stood back and allowed Willow to go for a night on the town with Spike! What had Angel been thinking? 

“Buffy, I have to go,” Willow said as she saw Lorne entering the hotel. 

“Good luck,” Buffy said. “And Dawn sends her love. She’s over at a friends, she’ll be furious she missed talking to you.”

"Say hi to her for me. Maybe I’ll get to do it myself and actually remember her. Got to go. Bye.”

Willow replaced the receiver and left the office. Spike was leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand. His face had shifted, his ridges and fangs on full display and Willow knew he was drinking blood. 

“Everything okay?” Angel asked.

“Yes. They’re all fine.” 

Spike watched her come around the counter, she shot him a look that made him freeze. Hurt green eyes stared at him for a beat before she went and sat on the sofa to wait for Lorne. Silently Spike raged against the Slayer and the moron and the Watcher and the God damn witch. Had one of them said something about him to turn Willow against him? 

“Sorry to be so late,” Lorne was saying. “But when your audience wants an encore, you just have to give it to them.” 

“Thank you for coming again,” Willow said. 

“Any time.” Lorne smiled at her. “Always happy to help. Any friend of Angel Cakes is a friend of mine.” 

Spike grinned at Angel and Angel scowled, turning his back on Spike. 

“Do you need anything? Candles, oil?” 

“Hey, I thought he was goin’ into her head not givin’ her a massage,” Spike snapped. 

Wesley let out a sigh. “Oil for anointing, Spike. And candles for…. Well, I don’t know, that’s why I asked.” 

“I don’t need a thing.” Lorne took Willow’s hand and gestured for her to lie down on the sofa. “All I need is for our little witch to relax so I can take a good look around.”  
Willow settled herself back on the sofa and Lorne knelt beside her. “Here we go,” she whispered.


	12. Chapter 12

Willow’s hand was warm in his, her palms slightly clammy and Lorne patted the back of her hand by way of reassurance before he reached out to her mind. 

It wasn’t hard to gain access, Willow was expecting him and her defences were down. Even then Lorne could still feel the power of her magic slumbering quietly in the background, ready to rear its head should Willow find herself in danger. 

He inched his way forward through a kaleidoscope of Spike’s image. Spike was everywhere. 

One memory rushed up and swallowed him; the myriad of emotions which came with the memory dragging him down like quicksand; love, passion, desire, excitement, wonderment, safety, longing. Lorne struggled to free himself from the memory, he didn’t want to watch Willow kissing Spike any longer than he had to and he really didn’t need to know how that made Willow feel.

Freeing himself from the memory, Lorne pushed further into Willow’s head. He avoided touching any other images afraid of getting bogged down again and merely peeked at them as he passed by. Angel appeared sometimes, weird fractured images like a broken mirror, but infused with familiarity nonetheless. The dominant presence in Willow’s head was Spike, and every time Spike’s face swam in front of him, Lorne could feel the rush of love that accompanied it. Sometimes it was so strong it threatened to overwhelm him. 

Forging ahead, Lorne got to his destination without incident. It was fascinating being inside Willow’s head when her memory was in such a chaotic state. Although, he thought Willow might not view it quite that way where Spike was concerned. Willow’s suppressed memories were still there, Lorne honestly hadn’t been sure they would be during his search; Spike had total control of Willow’s mind at the moment and he had been concerned that the emotions she clearly experienced towards Spike might have some effect on her other memories. He was relieved to see they were still bound tightly with magic which glittered like fairy dust. 

Lorne examined the wall of magic curiously. He wasn’t altogether sure how to get through it. He reached out carefully, probing the edges with his mind. Maybe it was because his magic was different to Willow’s. Maybe it was because somewhere inside her, he was viewed and recognised as a benevolent force, but Lorne was able to create a little gateway through the magic wall which held her memories captive. The magic was strong, and Lorne knew he didn’t possess the power to break it down, maybe her magic realised that. Willow’s magic was strong enough to have a life force of its own. It was something she would need to be careful with as she got older and her magic continued to grow. 

Lorne couldn’t help wondering if her body was aware of the unnatural state of her mind. He wondered if on a subconscious level Willow somehow recognised she needed help and her body adapted to his presence in the hopes of setting the balance right again. He could think of no other reason why her magic didn’t blast him out of her head, but allowed him through the magical barrier. 

He didn’t have to look for the memory he wanted, it was the last proper untampered memory Willow had and Lorne fell into it instantly. He wished he’d had some time to prepare. The pain, the misery, the heartbreak rolled over him, wave after wave and Lorne thought he might drown in the broiling emotions. 

He was in a bedroom, Lorne presumed it to be Willow’s bedroom. Willow was sitting on the floor with candles set out in a triangle. In the centre of the triangle was a bowl and in the bowl was a shirt. As he was within Willow’s memory, Lorne knew the shirt belonged to Spike. But he couldn’t concentrate on the shirt or the spell, not when Willow was so clearly hurting, all Lorne wanted to do was hug her, make the pain go away. 

Just as he knew the shirt belonged to Spike, he also knew the reason for Willow’s pain; her memory was filled with such raw emotion it held nothing back from him. Everything Willow was thinking and feeling within that moment was laid bare to him. It was humbling and awkward, he was not supposed to see any of this. Lorne was positive Willow wouldn’t want anyone knowing about this. 

Willow’s voice, which he had only heard quivering with nerves and warm with gratitude vibrated inside his head thick with anguish. 

Spike had declared his love for Buffy. 

First Xander and now Spike. Why was it always Buffy and never her? 

Was there something wrong with her? She hadn’t been enough for Xander. She hadn’t been enough for Oz and now she wasn’t enough for Spike. 

Nothing had ever happened between her and Spike, how could his feelings for Buffy hurt more than Oz’s betrayal? 

Why should it matter who Spike loved? She loved Tara. She did. And Tara loved her. Tara was wonderful, they had so much in common, they got on so well. Their relationship was real and it was solid and they were happy. 

But there was Spike underneath it all. 

Willow’s guilt curled around Lorne like binding chains, weighing him down, causing even more pain. 

Did she go for Tara because she was so different from Spike? But how could she have done that, she hadn’t realised she had these feelings for him until recently, until Buffy told her Spike had made a declaration of love.

How could Spike break her heart and not notice?

The air shifted as a feeling of resolve rose up in her; it was better that Spike didn’t know. Willow didn’t think she could stand the humiliation, not to mention the hurt it would cause Tara and the disapproval of her friends on top of a broken heart.

She couldn’t cope with living side by side with Tara and Spike feeling the way she did about him, so Willow made the decision to repress the memory of her feelings for Spike.  
Lorne understood completely what had happened without having to see it play out, he knew why she still remembered Spike, but he stayed anyway, it sort of felt as though he would be abandoning Willow if he didn’t. Willow was far too emotional to cast the spell properly. Her feelings for Spike were too strong and wouldn’t leave her no matter what she did. 

He was still confused about why she believed herself to be married to Spike until the moment she began to cast the spell. Privy to every moment, every emotion, every thought, Lorne discovered that as she was casting the spell Willow was still wondering what it would be like to be with Spike. What it might be like to be normal with Spike, and a bit of her fantasy weaved its way into her memories causing her to believe she was married to Spike and to forget all about magic and Slayers. 

Lorne had felt sympathy for Angel on more than one occasion, cursed as he was with a soul, never to be with the woman he loved and be truly happy. But that had been a punishment, one even Angel felt he deserved; but all Willow was guilty of was loving Spike and trying to mend a broken heart. Lorne had never felt so sorry for anyone in his life.   
Spike’s shirt went up in smoke and flames and Willow collapsed to the floor. There was nothing more to see. Sadly, Lorne withdrew himself from the memory watching the magical barrier seal itself back together in his wake. 

He pulled himself back into the foyer of the hotel where Angel, Wes and Spike were staring at him. Waiting. 

“Did you find it?” Wesley asked. 

Willow groaned, her hand lifting to her head as she grasped the back of the sofa to slowly lift herself into a sitting position. 

“Yes. I found the memory I wanted. I know what spell she used,” Lorne said, helping Willow to sit up. “I’ll write it down for you. It shouldn’t take too long to find a spell to unbind her memories and then Willow will be back to normal.”

“What exactly happened?” Angel asked

Lorne frowned. “That’s not really relevant, is it? You have the spell now. That’s all that matters.”

His announcement was met by three astounded faces, but Lorne ignored them. He was not going to tell any of them what he had seen, he would not be the one to cause Willow any more pain.

“Are you okay, pet? You look a bit funny.” Spike came to sit beside her, curling an arm around her shoulders to steady her. 

“It feels different this time. I’m all woozy.” 

“It’ll pass,” Lorne promised. “It’s only because I went deeper and was in your head for longer.” 

“What did you see?” Willow wondered.

Lorne almost felt the other three leaning in towards them, eager for more information. Well, they weren’t finding out about Willow’s private thoughts from him. “Wes told me your diary is on its way here. Wait and see what’s in that. If it doesn’t answer your questions then I’ll tell you.” 

Willow was more than a little confused by his answer, but she could see Lorne was uncomfortable and she could read the plea in his eyes not to ask him any more. She figured waiting until the morning wouldn’t make that much of a difference, she’d waited this long for answers. 

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I really appreciate it, Lorne.” 

Lorne smiled. “Anytime. You know, I think I deserve a sea breeze after that.” He got up and Willow closed her eyes and sank back against the sofa. Spike was looking up at him and Lorne scowled. “Some people never see what’s right in front of them and have no idea what’s good for them,” he muttered as he turned away and made for the bar in Wesley’s office. 

Spike blinked and turned confused eyes to Angel for a translation. Angel’s lips parted to speak but shook his head instead and shrugged. 

“Spike, can I go to bed now?” 

Spike reverted his attention to more important matters. “Course you can, pet. Come on, I’ll take you up.” He scooped her into his arms and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Tuck you in nice an’ cosy, hum?” 

Angel’s voice was low, but still reached Spike’s ears. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your chip.” 

Spike glanced over his shoulder, his lips moving in a silent retort he knew Angel understood by the irritated look on his face: _Piss off_


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

“Are these the best tacos ever, or what?” Fred enthused, taking another bite.

Gunn grinned, running a hand over his head. “Love to see a woman with an appetite.”

“I’ve certainly got that,” Fred agreed. “How’re your pancakes, Willow?”

“Lovely.” Willow poured a little more syrup over her stack. “I really like this place. Everything I’ve had so far has been nice.”

“It’s my favourite diner,” Fred said.

“Anywhere you can get food is your favourite place,” Gunn teased and Fred laughed.

Willow liked Fred and Gunn, she hadn’t known them previously and didn’t feel bad about not remembering them and they were both so easy to be around. They never asked awkward questions and Willow never felt as though they were judging her.

She cut herself a generous slice of chocolate chip pancake. She’d woken late, although it had still been early for Spike, her stomach growling, demanding food. Willow has resigned herself to leaving Spike alone in bed and tagged along with Fred and Gunn for a late breakfast. Although, as she understood from Gunn, they’d already been out to eat once, but Fred was always up for tacos.

Last time she and Fred and come to the diner Fred had done most of the talking, telling Willow all about Pylea and her work in science. Today she had learnt about Gunn and his friends and how he had come to work with Angel. Willow was more than a little impressed at how humans had fought against vampires with nothing more than their own wits to help them. It sort of seemed Buffy was cheating a bit with her Slayer strength. She wondered how many people like Gunn there were across the world, standing and fighting because it was the right thing to do without magic or a slayer to help them.

“How did it go with Lorne last night?” Gunn finally ventured to ask.

“Fine. He found out what spell I used and gave it to Wesley to track down the counter spell. It shouldn’t take too much longer until I have my memories back. As it turns out, I did do this to myself.”

Fred made a sympathetic sound and patted Willow’s hand. “Everyone makes mistakes. We’ve all done things we didn’t mean to do. And you haven’t hurt anyone so it’s not so bad.”

Willow smiled. “I guess not. It’s just inconvenient. Especially for Spike, he’s had to deal with Angel.”

“Yeah, they really don’t get along, do they?” Gunn laughed again. “The way Angel moans about Spike I keep expecting to see them giving each other wedgies and noogies and stuff. Like five year olds.”

“I think Spike just reminds Angel of how he used to be and Angel finds it difficult,” Fred said. “I don’t think he particularly hates Spike or anything.”

“Either way, I’ll be glad when Spike leaves. No offence,” Gunn said. “It’s just that Angel broods enough as it is without Spike making him worse.”

“Spike will be more than happy to leave Angel far behind as soon as he can,” Willow said. “As soon as we’ve reversed the spell we’ll be heading back to Sunnydale.”

“I bet you can’t wait,” Fred said.

Willow let out a heavy sigh. “I’d like it all to be over,” she admitted. “I just want to remember everything clearly again.”

Fred nodded, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. “Remembering is what got me through Pylea. Remembering home and the people I loved. It made me sad sometimes, but it also kept me going.”

“Memories can be powerful things,” Gunn said.

"Yes," Fred agreed. "I think Angel's kinda living proof of that. Or, you know, unliving proof. No, that's wrong, it's undead, isn't it?"

Willow smiled as Fred continued to mutter to herself a small frown on her face. She felt very comfortable with Fred.

Wiping her mouth with a paper napkin Willow checked the clock behind the counter and figured she'd have time before Spike woke up to do a little bit of shopping, providing the mall wasn't too far away. An anxious feeling twisted her stomach at the thought of going too far in a strange city without Spike.

"Is there a mall close by, Fred? I'd like to pick up a few things."

Fred nodded. "Not too far. You can catch a cab easily enough. If you're looking for souvenirs for your friends you're better off going down to the beach front. They sell everything down there."

"Maybe I will when my memories come back. Right now I wouldn't know the kind of thing any of them would like."

"Not long now," Fred said brightly. "Wes will find the spell and we'll all help. Won't we, Charles?"

"As soon as we get back," Gunn said.

Willow winced. "Now you're making me feel guilty. You're putting your own work on hold to research for me and I'm going shopping."

"We don't mean to make you feel that way," Fred said.

"I know." Willow sighed and smiled softly. "It's not that I don't want to get my memories back, but I don't feel a burning desire to research because I remember the most important person in my life. Everything else is just a bonus."

Fred smiled back and glanced fondly at Gunn. "I know what you mean."

When they had finished eating Gunn and Fred headed back to the hotel and Willow caught a cab to the mall. It had occurred to her while she was getting dressed the previous night that her underwear was simply underwear. She hadn't brought anything she would put in the category of lingerie. Nothing she felt Spike would appreciate and she could hardly seduce Spike in underwear. Lingerie was required.

Willow did understand Spike's initial reluctance to make love with her. But things were different now. Spike had become accustomed to her memory loss, Willow was sure of it. At first he hadn't even wanted to kiss her and then last night.... she smiled and hugged herself at the thought of Spike's kisses. It had been a shame Lorne's trip into her mind had to be then. She'd been too woozy and tired to pick up where she and Spike had left off. Today she intended to change that.

When she arrived back at the hotel Willow discovered everyone apart from Angel and Spike were in the foyer. She waved at Fred and hurried up the stairs, she was on a mission and refused to be distracted. She'd research later.

Spike wasn't in bed when Willow entered the bedroom. She could hear the shower running and took the opportunity to change as quickly as she could, substituting the underwear she was wearing for the new lingerie and her t-shirt for the pink fuzzy sweater Spike liked so much. The one he had said had made him think about biting her.

Kicking off her shoes and smoothing out her little skirt, Willow switched on the bedside light and perched on the edge of the bed to wait for Spike.

The shower shut off and Spike called to her through the door. "Have a good mornin', pet?"

Willow's lips pursed, unsure how he knew she was there. There was just no surprising a vampire. She smiled, glancing down at her outfit, at least not in the sneaking up on them way. "Yes. I had breakfast with Fred and Gunn and then I went shopping."

"That's nice."

He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and another in his hand rubbing at his hair. Willow swallowed, the dim light caught missed droplets of water on his skin and she had the wild urge to lick them away.

"A mug of blood an' 'en I'm all yours, love. What do you ...." his head was bent into the towel and Spike straightened, trailing off, drinking in the sight of her in her pink fuzzy sweater with lilac underneath. She looked just as delectable in it now as she had when he had first seen her wearing it. "Well now, what 'ave we got 'ere?"

She plucked at the sweater. "You said you liked it."

"I do."

Willow's fingers touched to her throat. "You said... you said it made you want to bite me."

Spike growled softly. "It does."

"You said you'd bite me if you could. Now you can."

His tongue ran slowly along his lower lip. "Guess I can."

"You didn't," she said quietly. "Last night. You had pigs blood instead."

Spike stared at her for a long moment. He remembered the hurt look she had shot him but it hadn't occurred to Spike she would have been hurt at his drinking pigs blood rather than hers. A wave of affection rolled over him causing his chest to tighten, quickly followed by a wave of arousal causing his nipples to tighten and his cock to twitch.

"Didn't think you'd want to..."

Her retort came out sharper than Willow intended. "You didn't ask either."

He remembered how she'd been after the wolf had left her and that same look of rejection shone in her eyes now. Memories or not, she was still Willow. Spike felt something akin to guilt squirm in his chest.

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean to upset you."

Willow nodded a soft smile crossing her lips. "I know."

Spike stared at her for a long moment, he could hardly get his head around what she was saying. "Do you _want_ to feed me?"

"Yes, if you want me to. It's you, Spike. It's the way it should be. Isn't it?"

"Oh yes, love. That's exactly how it should be."

Tossing the towel he had been using on his hair over the back of a chair, Spike crossed to sit beside her on the bed. He ran a hand over her arm, the pink sweater soft and fluffy beneath his palm. He probably shouldn't do this, but the memory of her lips on his still lingered. Spike couldn't remember the last time he had spent time just enjoying kissing a woman, not even Dru. It seemed forever ago since he and Dru had lain in each other's arms kissing without looking for anything more.

Willow wasn't the most subtle of women, although Spike had the feeling she thought she was. Willow wasn't the seductive type, she was more the gently nudge someone in the direction she wanted them to go, type. Spike was happy for her to nudge him in what she considered to be the right direction. It was the direction he wanted to go anyway. He gallantly decided to give in to her seduction.

He was aware he might lose her when her memory returned but Spike refused to go down without a fight. He'd give her something to really remember. He'd bet neither the wolf nor Glinda could make Willow feel the way he could. After all, he had a hundred years of experience behind him.

Smoothing her hair from her face Spike pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "It'll hurt."

"I'm not afraid."

He smiled. "Always been a fierce little thing." Catching the hem of her sweater he gave it a little tug. "Don't wanna get any blood on this, pet. 'Sides, biting comes last." His eyes locked with hers."Right after you."

A wash of colour bloomed in her cheeks and her heart stuttered. Spike brushed his cheek against hers, absorbing the warmth. And then he undressed her, and it was like unwrapping a gift he hadn't realised he'd been waiting for.

Spike had imagined this moment, but it wasn't playing out as he had thought it would. He'd imagined a shy awkward Willow, the way she generally was; he had forgotten that so far as she was concerned this wasn't the first time they had made love. Spike suddenly felt cheated; it wouldn't mean the same thing to her as it did to him because of her false memories.

Willow was kissing him, shifting her knees under her so she could wrap her arms around him more easily, the light weight of her body pressing him back to the bed. Her fingers traced his throat, feathering over his collar bone, down his chest to stroke against his nipple.

Spike shivered at the warm delicate touch. He couldn't help wondering if somewhere deep down Willow had ever thought of touching him this way.

Her hand smoothed over his chest, tracing his ribs and the concave of his belly. He didn't have any breath to hitch in this throat, but there was definitely a constriction there.

Sliding his hands into her hair, Spike drew her closer. Angling his head he kissed her deeper, tongue stroking hers, tracing her bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth and sucking lightly. He felt the towel around his waist loosen and the constriction in his throat came again when her hand curled around his hard cock. She made a sound of pleasure and Spike shuddered.

She gave him firm, fast strokes that had Spike gritting his teeth and he grabbed her shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to as a fission of pleasure began to make its way through his body.

She nipped lightly at his chin and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Don’t hold back, Spike.” That said, Willow wiggled out of his arms and her mouth closed over him.

Spike groaned, the warmth of her mouth was devastating. If she felt this good around him now how would he handle being inside her? His eyes closed, hands coming to tangle in her hair as she gave him deep, relentless pulls with her mouth, a light scraping of her teeth along the length of him while her hands cupped his balls and squeezed firmly but gently.

Mouth half open, a rumbling noise erupted from Spike's throat in response as her hands rode the sharp lines of his hip bones, flexing over his stomach, nails scratching lightly just below his belly button before returning to his cock, wrapping around him, stroking upwards as she released him to take a steadying breath.

Catching hold of her upper arms Spike hauled her over his chest, her knees falling open on either side of him. Willow gasped, his eyes were like a blow torch on her face, so dark with desire they were almost black and his face was taut, straining to stay human.

She brushed his forehead. "I said don't hold back, Spike."

Spike let his face change, it wasn't likely he'd be able to control it much longer anyway, his emotions were bound to heighten when he was inside her.

Dipping a hand between her legs Spike sought her out, stroking her apart, licking his lips when he discovered just how wet she was. His fingers pressed inside her and Willow moaned, her hips pushing downward, taking his fingers deeper. His free hand curled around her hip, unwilling to allow her full control and he stroked her slowly, watching as her skin pinked and she bit her lower lip, eyes closing in pleasure.

His cock lay full and heavy against his stomach and Willow took him in hand again, her thumb stroking downwards. She tightened around his fingers and Spike knew what she wanted. He wanted it too. But he needed her under him; it was how he had imagined them together.

Withdrawing his hand Spike held her carefully as he rolled her onto her back, mouth greedily seeking hers. Her arms flew around his neck, hands burying themselves in his hair as he kissed her, tongue tangling with hers.

Breaking the kiss to allow her to breathe, Spike's lips trailed along her jaw to nibble on her earlobe. "Need you," he murmured into the shell of her ear.

Her thighs tightened around his hip, pulling him closer. "Spike." It was a soft whisper against his ear and he shivered.

A rumbling growl vibrated in his throat as he sank inside her. The heat of her was almost too much, coupled with the fact that the wolf had been gone for a long time, made her tighter than Spike had anticipated. The sensation of her stretching around him caused him to rear above her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arms until a whimper brought him out of his haze and Spike eased his grip on her.

He made a soothing sound, brushing a kiss across her lips. "Sorry, baby. Sorry. Didn't mean to hurt you."

Willow couldn't speak, she was panting, cunt practically kneading his cock as Spike moved slowly inside her, not for her benefit but for his own, as he struggled to keep himself in check. She arched against him, moving with him, hands sliding over his body, touching him everywhere at once as her heart raced and her pulse danced.

She was nothing at all like Dru. Willow was softness and warmth; her passion gentler because she was human, but no less consuming. In fact, she seemed to consume him more than Dru did. It was a different kind of connection, being with a woman who isn't his sire.

With each stroke of his cock inside her Spike seemed to draw even more pleasure out of her. Willow moaned as fire speared through her veins and she grasped his shoulders as his pubic boned pressed down on her clitoris.

Spike moved deeper; hard, powerful muscles rippling in his back as he pushed her to the edge and beyond. Her nails scored his back when she hit her peak with a cry, her hips slamming upwards, her cunt squeezing him, forcing his own release to erupt. Spike zeroed in on her neck, his fangs sinking into the delicate skin of her throat. Her nails dug deeper into his back and Spike arched into the pain as he drew on her vein, her blood coating his tongue, filling his mouth with pure nectar.

The hardest thing he'd had to do in ages was stop feeding, but Spike managed it. He licked her blood from his lips as he lifted his head to look down at her. Her face was flushed, if pulled taunt with pain, his bite an ugly red mark on her throat but it was her eyes that drew him in; bright green and reflecting with an inner fire only a woman in love could experience.

Spike was suddenly swamped with the terrifying feeling that when her memories returned she wouldn't look at him that way again.

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

Willow’s fingers danced over Spike’s skin, she couldn’t stop touching him. She had the strangest feeling of being whole; as though she’d finally had something she’d been desperately longing for.

Shifting onto her elbow she gazed down at him. Deep green eyes stared at Spike keeping him captive in a timeless moment before flickering away and travelling down the length of his body, assessing him carefully with open admiration.

Her red hair was like fire against her pale skin and she brought to mind the image of a beautiful and mystical forest nymph. Maybe it was her witchy powers, dormant at the moment, but still a part of her, that made him link her with nature.

It was subtle, but the change in her heart beat brought Spike out of his poetic thoughts. The look she was giving him now was different, the hot, hungry eyes of a lover devoured him and Spike’s body responded.

"See something you like, pet?"

He was teasing, his voice low, a seductive purr that affected Willow down to the marrow of her bones.

"If you've seen one blonde God you've seen them all," she replied with an impish smile.

A sly smile curled his lips. "You're supposed to worship God's you know."

"Yes," Willow agreed, her voice a breathy whisper as she thought of all the ways she could worship Spike. "Would you like to be worshipped, Spike?"

His fingers tightened on her waist, his face rippling and changing as a sound somewhere between a purr and a growl came from him.

She brushed her lips over thick ridge arching over each eyebrow. She nipped at his chin, her tongue then tracing the curve of his neck as Spike’s eyes closed. Hot open-mouthed kisses touched his shoulder, his inner arms, and scattered over his chest to the flat of his stomach.

Spike groaned quietly as she made her way back up his body to kiss the base of his throat and just beneath his ear. Light kisses, as swift as butterfly wings passed over his face, along his cheek bones, against his eye lids and lastly to the tip of his nose.

His lips parted eagerly, waiting for that kiss to his mouth but she bypassed his mouth entirely. An annoyed noise came from the back of his throat and Willow laughed. She leant in until her hair tickled his chest and her lips were against his ear. "Worship isn't something to rush, Spike."

Desire speared through every nerve ending in his body. Spike’s hand dropped from her, remembering how he had hurt her before by gripping her too tightly, and fisted into the blanket beneath him, as he strained towards her, eager and desperate for more.

She allowed her thumb to trace his bottom lip, stroking down his throat, across his chest tracing of the contours of his body. She caressed his arms stroking against the crease by his elbow and lifting his hand to press a sweet kiss against his wrist. Spike shifted, tension knotting in his belly.

Her nails raked lightly over his nipples eliciting a groan from him. Her touch ghosted over his ribs to pause on his hips as her lips pressed to one nipple whichtightened into a hard bud against her exploring tongue.

He had soft skin with rock hard muscle beneath it. He held himself steady, in check, the coiled muscles reminding Willow that Spike was dangerous, but she was safe with him.

With the faintest of touches Willow caressed his inner thigh, and she saw those muscles twitch in anticipation.

His cock was hard and aching, but her hand curling around him as she shifted over his hips did nothing to relieve the pressure, only build it. His hips jerked upwards as she stroked him, and Spike sat up, reaching for her, fingers tracing her spine making her shiver and move closer to him.

A frenzied hunger eating away at the pit of his stomach, Spike speared his fingers through her hair and kissed her; tongue sweeping into her mouth, stroking, caressing and Willow moaned in response, pressing herself against him.

He kneaded her breasts, thumbs tracing her nipples, thumb nail scraping lightly against the sensitive nub making her moan and catch his bottom lip between her teeth in a soft biting kiss.

Tugging at her hair, Spike bent her head back so he could bury his face at her throat. He sought out the scab his bite had left behind tasting the barest trace of blood on the wound. It wouldn’t do. Would never do. His fangs dislodged the scab and sank into her again just as the fingers of his free hand slid inside her.

Willow cried out, stuck in her position with Spike’s one hand in her hair, the other between her legs and his fangs in her throat, her body could only vibrate with an urgency bordering on painful as pleasure worked its way through her nervous system.

He gave her deep, hard strokes, pushing up into her, bring her body to the edge as her cunt tightened and flexed around his fingers and little panting moans fell from her lips. She held on to his sides, to his arms, anywhere she could grab hold of him to steady herself.

Willow hit her peak with a cry, body trembling. Spike brought his fingers to his lips, eyes closing at the taste of her on his tongue. It was all the wiggle room Willow needed. Before Spike was able to collect himself enough to slide inside her, she pushed at his shoulders sending him back to the bed.

As she caught his cock in her palm Spike’s hand went swiftly back between her legs, parting her gently, holding her gaze as she lowered her body onto him. Suddenly he was inside her; Willow was around him, above him, surrounding him completely and Spike’s eyes closed and he released a groan; she just felt so good.

His hands curled around her hips, guiding her, kneading her bare flesh, travelling up her ribs her body arching into him as Willow moved above him, her chest expanding with deep breaths. He cupped her breasts, moved over her shoulders, down her arms to her wrists, dropped to caress her legs and knees. Spike couldn't stop touching her, especially when she was panting his name like a prayer.

Little crescent moons became etchedin his shoulders where she held on tightly as a tidal wave of exquisite sensations coursed through her.Willow never broke her stride, her arms coming behind her to use his legs for leverage as she quickened her pace. Spike's hands on her hips urging her on.

Nothing could distract Spike from Willow when she looked this good; her hair a wild tangle about her shoulders, her body arched back with her breasts jutting enticingly forward and her lips red and swollen from his kisses. She had never looked more enchanting to Spike than she did right then in all her wondrous natural glory, her skin flushed her head flung back as she cried out and her body shook with release.

Voice hoarse with emotion his hips bucked upwards following her over the edge. "Bloody hell, I love you."

Willow sank against Spike in a boneless heap, her lungs aching for much needed air.

The scent of her filled his nostrils and her heart hammered against his chest. Spike’s arms encircled her, holding her close. His fingers trailed absently along her arm as she settled into a doze and his mind wandered again to her lost memories. Her diary should be arriving soon. Probably today. He understood from Wesley that there had been some sort of delay in Sunnydale and Giles hadn’t got around to sending it as quickly as he wanted to.

He glanced at the clock, it was early evening it would be dark soon. The diary might well have arrived and he wouldn’t know anything about it until the very second it was put into Willow’s hands. A frown marred Spike’s forehead. He had to stop that happening, at least until he got a look at it first.

Carefully, he eased himself away from Willow and out of bed. She made a sound, eyes fluttering as she looked up at him sleepily. Spike smiled, squatting beside the bed and smoothing her hair from her face. “Nice little nap is what you need, love.”

“Hum.” She stretched, the sheet slipping down her chest to reveal a soft, pert breast. “Where are you going?”

Spike’s gaze lingered for a moment before he caught her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. To her knuckles and turning her hand over to nibble at the fleshy base of her thumb and kiss the tips of her fingers.

“Won’t be long. Just poppin’ downstairs for a minute. I’ll get you a drink, hum?”

“Yes, okay.” Willow smiled, eyes drifting shut again.

He kissed her forehead and tucked the sheet back around her before getting dressed. Leaving the room Spike stood in the hallway listening carefully for any sight or sound of Angel. He crept along to Angel’s room and paused, listening again. Detecting no movement at all, Spike made a guess that Angel wasn’t there. He frowned. That meant Angel was downstairs, a hulking brooding road block to Willow’s diary. Bloody great big poof.

Spike headed downstairs and found Angel in the foyer with the rest of the humans and Lorne. His sharp eyes caught sight of a brown package in the cheerleader's hands. It was small. It was rectangular. It could be a book.

“It’s not really much to go on, Cordelia.” Wesley was saying as Spike hit the foyer.

Cordelia huffed. “Well sorry, Wes. I’ll memo the PTB’s and ask for a full report of the next crisis shall I? I get what I get. I can’t control the visions.”

“Yes, I know. Sorry, Cordelia.”

Fred spotted Spike first and smiled at him. “Hello, Spike. Where’s Willow?”

“Sleepin’.” He glanced at Angel out of the corner of his eye. Angel’s nostrils flared a dark look crossing his face. Spike sighed inwardly. There was another lecture coming his way. Although, Spike didn’t really need it, he knew exactly what Angel was going to say. He’d stand there all martyred and do gooder-ish droning on and on about taking advantage of Willow blah blah blah.

Spike squirmed a little. He supposed he had taken advantage of her, but it wasn’t as though he intended on abandoning Willow. He was going to keep her. They were going to be happy together. Not that Angel would ever understand the concept of being happy. Had he even cracked a smile since his soul had been returned?

Cordelia turned the package over, the nail of her index finger picking lightly at the edge of the wrapping, a look of curiosity on her face.

“I’ll take that.” Lorne plucked the package out of her hand. “Keep it away from prying eyes.”

Cordelia made a face. “It’s not like I’m the only one who wants to know what Willow was up to when she cast that spell. Besides, just because there’s a diary doesn’t mean she’s written in it. I always forget to write in mine.”

“I’ll take it.” Spike offered, holding out his hand.

Lorne hugged the book closer to his chest as though protecting it from Spike. “I don’t think so. You aren’t really her husband, Spike. Remember?”

“I’ll take it up to her,” Spike insisted.

“No. I’ll keep it. I’m not giving this to anyone except Willow. This is a diary, there are things in here she won’t want you to see. Not just you,” Lorne added hastily. “I mean anyone.”

“These are her private thoughts. Let Willow read it and tell us if there’s anything useful in it,” Angel said.

“You think I’ll peek?” Spike demanded.

“No. I know you’ll peek,” Angel snapped.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “For an evil demon you sure are nosy, Spike.”

 

"Never mind about that now,' Wesley said. "We need to get down to The Natural History Museum and find out just why a group of demons feel it necessary to break in there. Maybe there's a new exhibition of demonic importance."

Cordelia's hands came to rest on her hips. "Let me guess, I get to stay here and research the demons?"

"I'll be here too," Wesley replied.

Cordelia sighed. "And you're all about the fun, Wes." She rounded the counter and headed to the kitchen. "I'm going to need chocolate."

Fred pulled her hair back tying it in a band. "I'll help, Wes. Charles will be much more help to Angel than I will."

"We'll head off then.'" Gunn went to arm himself at the weapons cabinet.

"I'll ask around at the club," Lorne said. "If I hear anything I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Lorne. I appreciate it." Angel frowned at Spike as he passed him on the way to the weapons cabinet. "Don't think I've forgotten about you. Before the sun comes up we're going to have a talk."

"Before the sun comes up I'll have learnt to sleep with my eyes open," Spike retorted.

Angel's frown deepened. "I mean it, Spike. Willow's my friend and she's not herself right now. It's down to me to protect her."

Spike bristled. "You think you need to protect her from me?"

"My heightened sense of smell and hearing tell me I do."

"Hey, Angel. Come on."

"Coming, Gunn." Angel turned his back on Spike and went to collect his weapon before heading out of the door with Wesley calling after them that he would call Angel's cell phone as soon as he had some news.

"Spike, could you ask Willow to come down so I can give her the diary?" Lorne asked.

Spike shook his head. "She's in bed. She's not very well. I don't want to disturb her."

"Oh," Lorne paused. "Okay. I'll take the diary with me and call back later. Or you and Willow could come by the club when she wakes if she's feeling better."

Spike nodded and Lorne said his goodbyes humming quietly as he crossed the foyer. Spike watched him mount the steps and suddenly he jerked forward as though Lorne had pulled him by a rope, and hurried after Lorne.

"Wait a minute!"

Hand on the door, Lorne half turned back to Spike. "What is it?"

"You've been in Willow’s head..."

"Yes," Lorne interrupted. "I know what might be in the diary, but I'm not going to tell you. It's private."

Lorne wondered if there might be a way he could smooth the path for Willow. He thought of his trip inside Willow's head and of her pain and misery. Willow's memory had been all encompassing and he understood that Buffy, as Willow understood it, had no interest in Spike and never would and it had hurt Willow to think she accepted Spike as he was whereas Buffy wasn't interested even when Spike tried to change to please her.

He knew Angel was concerned about Spike's involvement with Willow and Lorne wasn't so sure that concern was necessary. From what he had seen Lorne felt there were times when Spike actually forgot Willow wasn't his wife.

"I will say one thing. Love isn’t changing who you are, Spike. Love is being accepted for who you are. You can only ever be you, Spike. You're never going to be anyone else no matter how much you try. You don’t know it, but being Spike is more than enough."

Spike’s brow creased. "What does that mean?"

Lorne gave a spare shake of his head. "Maybe you’ll find out. I hope you do. Everyone should experience what you have right at your fingertips if only you’d see it."

He slipped out of the hotel leaving Spike to frown after him. First Dru and her ramblings and now Lorne was talking around in circles. Why could demons never say what they meant!

Turning away from the door, Spike stood on the top step staring across the foyer where Wesley, Fred and Cordelia were sitting in Wesley's office with a pile of books. Wesley was gesturing and showing an open book to Cordelia who was shaking her head.

They were distracted right now by the cheerleader's vision, but that wouldn't last. Angel would be all Saviour of the World and defeat the bad guys and they'd be back to looking for the spell for Willow. And her diary was here. It was a mere few blocks away in Lorne's possession. All Willow had to do was find out it was here and she'd want to go and get it. She'd want to read it. She'd find out they weren't really married. Or a couple. She'd find out about Tara.

Spike took the stairs two at a time. He had the sudden urge to keep Willow close. Lock her away and keep her from anyone or anything which could take her away from him. Right now he knew Willow would ever conceive a world where she didn’t love him; but soon enough she would be transported back to the real world and he would be forced to inhabit it as well.

A world without Willow’s love would be a dark placed. Spike had no desire to live in it. He had a matter of hours before Willow discovered the truth. He had to do something, and he had to do it tonight.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

When Spike entered the bedroom Willow was up and heading into the bathroom. “I thought you were going to have a nap?” 

“I was, but then I thought I’d rather be researching for the reversal spell. We know exactly what we’re looking for now, it’s just a matter of finding it. The quicker we do the quicker I’ll be back to normal and remember everything.” 

“Uh huh.” Exactly what he didn’t want to happen. “I thought we could pop out for a bit. Get you something to eat. Some place nice.” 

She looked surprised. “Why? I mean, why some place nice? What’s the occasion? Oh God,” she let out a groan. “Is there an occasion? Am I forgetting a really important date?” 

Spike chuckled and shook his head. “No, you’re not forgettin’ anything, pet. Just thought it would be nice.” He closed in on her, locking his eyes with hers, enjoying the way her pupils dilated. “You an’ me. Soft music. Candle light. Moonlit walk on the beach. All the trimmings for my girl. But,” he lifted a shoulder in a shrug and half turned from her. “If you’d rather spend the night with old Wesley an’ a pile of books...” 

Willow caught his arm. “No. I wouldn’t rather that. Let’s do your thing, Spike.” 

“You sure now?” He schooled his face into its most innocent expression. “Wouldn’t wanna drag you away from the research if you really wanna be here.” 

“I’m sure,” Willow insisted, her arms sliding around his neck. “I want to do your thing.” 

His arms circled her waist, his palm flattening against the base of her spine, drawing her in closer. He kissed her softly, drawing it out until a whimper vibrated in her throat. “All right then. You an’ me will have a night on the town.” 

Willow smiled and kissed him lightly. “I’ll just get dressed.” She threw open the wardrobe doors and frowned. “I don’t think I have anything for a fancy night out.”

Hands spanning her waist, Spike’s head dipped where he could nuzzle at her neck and draw her pulse between his lips for a breath-taking moment, even if he didn’t breathe, the sensation of her against his tongue was enough to make him think he could. “Wear the fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath.” 

Her hand came up to absently pet at his hair. “What is it with you and that sweater?” 

“It was the moment I knew that I’d be more than happy to turn someone.” 

Willow twisted in his arms, gazing up at him thoughtfully. “Is it really that important?”

“A century with Dru an’ I never thought about anyone else. Never felt the need to turn anyone. I had Dru, she was enough for me. We were enough for each other. Then you come along. A little wisp of a thing I could break without blinkin’. But I didn’t wanna break you. Didn’t even wanna hurt you that much, but I had to play rough, had to threaten you and what all. Needed you to come with me, do what I wanted. Help me get Dru back. You were so soft, so gentle, smelled so good. An’ I was a complete drunken pillock. Too angry, too focused to see a golden opportunity.” He smiled, stroking her hair back from her face. “Forgive me for that, love. We’ve lost so much time because I’m an idiot.” 

“You came back,” Willow said. “We’re together now. That’s the most important thing.” Her arms slipped around his waist and she curled into his chest, hugging him tightly. 

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, hugging her back. “An’ we’re gonna stay together. Not gonna lose you, pet. Never gonna give you up.” 

“Promise?” 

Cupping her face in his palms Spike tipped her head back, his thumb stroking gently at the corner of her eye. His eyes locked with hers, filled with brilliant green fire burning with love just for him. “I promise.”

She blinked and Spike stepped back, some distance was required to get her dressed and out of the hotel. He motioned towards the clothes she had folded and placed on a chair. The clothes he had been desperate to get her out of and was now eager to get her back into. “Quicker we leave, quicker we’re back.” The knowing look he gave her pushed her into moving and she got dressed, smoothing the jumper down at the front. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Just a little place I spotted the other night, at least to start with.” He took her hand and led her from the bedroom.

“Spike,” Willow paused and gestured to the right. “The front door is that way.” 

“Not goin’ out the front door,” Spike said. “We’re goin’ down the fire escape.” 

“What in the world for?” 

“Wanna avoid Angel. He’ll only put me in a mood and ruin everything. Angel knows exactly how to spoil any sort of fun. Believe me.” 

“But, shouldn’t we tell them we’re going on?” 

“Don’t need to check in with Angel every time I make a move, pet. Don’t worry about it. I’m the one he’ll moan at anyway.” 

Willow let out a sigh and nodded. “Whatever you like, Spike.” 

Spike smiled and squeezed her fingers. The last thing he needed right now was Angel or any of his little human pets to see Willow. The first words spoken would be telling Willow her diary had arrived. He just needed to dodge that information for a few more minutes until they were out of the hotel. 

They went down the fire escape and across the grounds of the hotel without incident. Spike kept them well into the shadows as they neared the front steps and saw Gunn going through the door. From his position Spike could see through the doors but the humans couldn’t see him being too far back in the foyer. There was no sign of Angel. 

Hoping for once luck would be on his side, Spike steered Willow out into the street. He paused in the gateway to assess the street, but still there was no sign of Angel. Spike grinned.   
“Come on, this way.” 

Willow glanced up at him a small smile curling her lips. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve done the sneaking out thing way too many times to count?” 

Spike’s grinned deepened. “Used to be itchy when I was fledge, could hardly wait for night to roll around so I could be out an’ about in the shadows. Angelus, whatever else I might say about him, knew I was too inexperienced to take to the streets alone. I needed guidance, all fledglings do. He used to devise ways to keep me in an’ I used to push the boundaries an’ try to get out.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you remember Angelus?” 

“A little bit. I remember him with his hand around my throat. Mostly he’s fuzzy. For me he’s like a duel personality with Angel, but Angel’s the more dominant one in my head. If you see what I mean? Angel stands out more because of my re-souling him. Angelus is there, but I mostly remember being terrified of him.”

“No need for you to worry about Angelus,” Spike assured her. 

“I don’t.” She smiled up at him. “I don’t worry about anything when you’re around.” 

Spike raised their joint hands to his lips so he could brush a kiss across the back of her hand. “Never let anything happen to my girl.” 

And that, so far as Spike was concerned, included anything Angel or her friends might do to take Willow away from him. 

*  
Caritus was almost empty when Angel arrived. There were two demons sitting at the bar and a three chaos demons huddle around a table in the middle of the room finishing off their drinks. 

“Is Lorne still here?” Angel asked the bar tender.

His antlers wobbled as he bobbed his head. “He’s in the back.”   
“Thanks.” Angel crossed the room and knocked once before sticking his head around the door. “Lorne?” 

“Angel, hello.” Lorne sat back in his chair. 

Lorne was sitting at a large desk covered in papers, Angel spied a small book at the corner. He took a seat in front of the desk in a comfortable white leather chair. “Is that it? The diary?”   
Lorne nodded. “I had a quick peek. Just to see if the spell was in there. Willow may have written down the reversal spell to have it to hand. It’s not there though.” 

“We’ll find the spell soon enough and Willow will be fine. I just can’t understand what she’s done. I’ve been over it and over it and nothing makes sense to me. Why does Spike stand out in her memories? Why does she believe she loves him? What was she trying to do?” Angel pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s only been a few days, not even a week, and they’re all miserable in Sunnydale without Willow. I wish I could fix this for them, for Willow. ”

“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

Angel nodded. “Yes. She’s a good person, Lorne. She’s my friend. She’s strong and Buffy needs a friend like Willow on side. But the girl I remember was fragile too, she needed love. She got stronger when she got together with Oz. She started to believe in herself more.” 

“Love is very powerful.” 

“Yes,” Angel said softly. “It is.” 

“It can make us do things we wouldn’t normally do,” Lorne said. “Crazy things. Things that don’t make sense to anyone else.” 

“No arguments about that.” 

“Love is a very personal and private feeling. Outsiders can’t always understand it.”

Angel’s eyebrows drew together and he surveyed Lorne in silence for a full minute. “I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something.”

“Love is natures phenomenon. It defies logic. It defies everything. It can’t be controlled. It is what it is.” 

“Yes. I can understand that,” Angel said slowly. “But we were talking about Willow.” Lorne remained silent and Angel frowned at him. “We’re still talking about Willow, aren’t we?”

“Willow is no different to anyone else. Except that she’s more powerful. Sometimes it seems like magic can hold all the answers, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t always make things better. And it certainly can’t erase something more powerful than itself, no matter how strong the witch is.” 

Leaning forward over his knees, Angel plucked the diary off the corner of the desk. He turned it over in his hands. It smelled like Willow. He tapped the cover lightly. “This is about what you saw in Willow’s head, isn’t it? It’s the reason you wouldn’t tell us anything. Something personal. Something private. Something outsiders wouldn’t understand.” 

Eyes narrowing, brow creasing, Angel looked from the diary to Lorne. “I never expected to read it. Never wanted to. Willow’s thoughts are her own. Except, in this case, they aren’t. You know too. You know what’s in this diary. And tonight I realised something. You not only refused to tell me and Spike and Wesley what you saw in Willow’s head. You refused to tell her too. Now why would you do that, Lorne? They’re Willow’s memories and thoughts. Why wouldn’t you tell her?” 

Lorne sat back with a small laugh, hands folding over his stomach. “So that's why you're here. You’re the detective, Angel-cakes.” 

Angel pursed his lips. “I assumed it was the reason everyone went along with Willow’s new reality, because we couldn’t think of taking away the one person she remembered. But if you told us, or at least told her what you saw, that wouldn’t be an issue, would it? Willow would know the truth. She might not remember it, but you could have told her exactly what she had done and why. Willow’s not unreasonable. She would probably have been embarrassed over Spike, but it wouldn’t exactly be the end of the world. You had another reason for keeping quiet.”

“Don’t expect answers,” Lorne warned. “Willow may never tell you the reason why.” 

Angel stood and began to wander around the room still turning the diary over and over in his hands. “We know she was doing a memory spell. She didn’t mean to erase all her memories. The reason she remembers me makes sense. The soul restoration is very powerful. It connected us, even if it was for an instant. But Spike. Spike makes no sense at all. He never made any sense to me. Why would she remember Spike? And why wouldn’t you say anything? Why would you keep the truth a secret from Willow?” 

He whirled suddenly and stared hard at Lorne. “Magic can’t override love. Something outsiders can’t understand. Makes people do crazy things.” Angel’s eyes widened to their utmost and his mouth popped open. “Are you trying not to tell me that Willow loves Spike?” He waved the diary about, free hand coming to rest against his temple as he struggled to keep up with the avalanche of thoughts tumbling through his brain. “She was trying to erase Spike! She was trying to stop herself loving Spike, wasn’t she? And the whole thing backfired because it doesn’t matter how powerful her magic is or how strong a witch she is, nothing can erase love.” 

“Yes,” Lorne said. “But when she was doing the spell, Spike was still on her mind. So very much on her mind. She thought of a life with him and that’s what Willow ended up giving herself; the fantasy instead of erasing the memory of ever loving him. She managed to block everything except Spike.” 

“I don’t believe this,” Angel let out a groan. “All this because of Spike!”

“No Angel, all this because of love,” Lorne said softly. 

“But,” Angel’s face screwed up and he spread his hands wide. “It’s Spike!” 

“He’s enough for her. It’s all in there,” he gestured towards the diary. “I had a long peek,” he confessed. “It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. I was there when she cast the spell, I felt everything. So much misery, Angel. She hurt so much and Spike didn’t even know it.” 

Angel gave a spare shake of his head. “I’m not judging her. Buffy came to L.A. a few years ago, before I met you. We were fighting a demon and I turned human. We had the whole day together, both human. Making love. Just the two of us. It was perfect. But I realised I could never be any help to her as a human or to the world. I couldn’t make amends for what I had done as a human. I went to see the PTB’s and they reversed time. Made it so I was never human. But to do it they had to take away Buffy’s memory of it. She has no idea it ever happened. Sometimes I wish I had no idea it had ever happened.” 

“Angel…” Lorne sat up, eyes wide. 

“It was a long time ago,' he said quickly, waving a hand to dismiss Lorne's pity. He didn't need to get bogged down in his own miserably memories right now. "Because I have that memory, because I carry the memories of Angelus, I can understand Willow wanting to get rid of her own.” 

“What are you going to do, Angel?”

“I have to talk to Willow,” Angel said. “I have to explain to her, she has to know the truth. Spike has already manipulated her into deactivating his chip. Her feelings for him makes Spike the most dangerous thing in her life.” 

“Spike wanted to deactivate his chip, I understand that. You must understand that, Angel,” Lorne prompted. 

Angel scowled but grudgingly agreed. 

“Spike’s got what he wanted and yet he’s still here. What does that tell you?”

“That’s the problem with Spike,” Angel said crossly. “I have no idea. His actions aren’t making any sense right now and that’s dangerous too. Spike will strike and he’ll strike hard and it’s only when he has that I’ll realise the answer has been staring me in the face all this time even if I couldn’t see it.” 

Lorne scratched his chin and sat up a little straighter. “I’m not sure your right. I think….”

The shrill ringing of Angel’s cell phone cut through Lorne and made him jump. Angel chuckled and took the phone out of his pocket. “Hello? Oh, hi, Wes.” He paused and smiled. “They found the spell,” he told Lorne. “What, Wes? What do you mean, “Willow’s missing?” Isn’t she in her room?” Angel’s entire body tensed. “Where’s Spike? Damn it! I’m on my way.” 

“What is it? What’s happened?” Lorne asked, getting to his feet. 

“Giles called Wes with the spell, Dawn, that’s Buffy’s sister, she found it. Wes went up to tell Willow and both she and Spike have disappeared. No-one saw them leave and Wes, Cordy and Fred have been in the foyer the whole time. Which means that Spike has gone sneaking out of the hotel and if Spike’s sneaking, he’s up to something.” 

“Angel, wait a minute.” Lorne darted around the desk and caught hold of Angel’s arm as he reached for the door handle. “You asked why I hadn’t told Willow the truth, well here it is. I see the way Spike looks at her. I see the way he is with her. I think there’s something there, Angel. I didn’t want Willow to know what she had done and put up a wall between her and Spike, not when I think there could be feelings there. Real feelings. She was heartbroken, Angel, loving Spike when she didn’t think he loved her but I think he does. Or at least he could. And Willow deserved the chance to get what she wanted. Don’t you see? You don’t need to worry, Angel. Not about Spike.” 

Angel shook his head, the tension mounting in his shoulders. “If you’re right, Lorne. If Spike does having feelings for Willow, he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants and that makes Spike more dangerous to her than he ever has been.”


	16. Chapter 16

Spike had taken Willow for something to eat and then they'd gone for a stroll on the beach. He'd managed to find a secluded section of beach where the moon bathed the small cove and the stars looked close enough to touch.

Willow was in his lap, her knees tucked into his hips and his cock buried deep inside her. Spike's eyes closed, his hand smoothed down her back to nestle at the base of her spine, absorbing the soft, wet, warmth of her.

It was strange, when he was human he had tried his hardest to write beautiful words and moving prose, the words had all turned into the most god awful bloody excuse for poetry the world had ever seen. Now, in this moment, he had the words. It was as though they had always been there, slumbering away waiting to come to life; but he couldn't seem to form them. When his lips touched to her throat his murmured endearments were more sound and feeling than words. She robbed him of speech when she was like this; skin tinged cream and rose with the heat of her blood and desire turning her eyes to bright green fire.

She arched back over his arm and his tongue teased and flickered over the hard peak of her nipple, his teeth nipping lightly as she shuddered.

Curling his fingers through her hair Spike brought her in close kissing her with an animal hunger that fired through his veins and burnt beneath his skin. She kissed him back, gripping at his shoulders for a moment before letting her arms slide about him, kissing him deeper.

His hands slid over her back and sides to curl over her behind and encourage her movements. Her heavy breathing fanned against his cheek, her hair falling around his face and shoulders, tickling his skin erotically as her body rose and fell in his lap.

Willow's fingers dug into Spike's scalp, as sensation after sensation stormed her body until she could barely breathe. Her lips mere inches from his, her eyes were deep pools of lust staring at him hungrily. There was a low rumble in Spike's throat at how alluring she looked. Her skin was blazing beneath his hands and her heart hammered wildly in his ears.

Spike groaned, he couldn't hold on any more, she drove him crazy. She was everything he needed and too much and not enough all at the same time. His hips suddenly thrust upwards, pushing himself deeper into her, as his hand dipped between her legs and his thumb pressed down on her clit.

Willow gave a sharp cry as her muscles convulsed around him.

_Baby. Sweet, darling girl._

It was what he wanted to say, but still the words came out as sound more than anything else.

Burying his face at the crook of her neck for a moment, Spike pulled the scent of her deep into his body and then sank his fangs deep into her neck; a sound of satisfaction in his throat when her blood, thickened with desire, burst into his mouth.

 

*

 

The wind whistled past Lorne's ears as Angel's car flew through the streets of L.A. He gripped tightly to the door handle, his heart in his throat. "Do we really need to break the sound barrier?"

"Yes." Angel replied, increasing Lorne's anxiety as he fumbled in this pocket for his cell phone, one hand alone on the wheel. He thumbed in the number, swerving to avoid a car and Lorne let out a sharp squeak, his eyes closing tightly.

"Angel Invest...."

"Has Wes done the spell yet?"

Cordelia huffed. "Hello to you too, Angel."

"Cordelia!" Angel ground out between clenched teeth.

"No he hasn't."

"Tell him to do it now. Willow was nowhere near me when she put my soul back and that's a powerful spell. She probably doesn't need to be in the room for him to do this spell."

"Hold on," Cordelia said. "Wes, it's Angel. He says he wants you to do the spell now."

Angel heard Wesley's response: "I thought Willow was going to do it."

"He said..."

"We can't wait," Angel insisted.

Cordelia relayed his message to Wesley and Angel heard Wesley reply: "If I'm to do the spell I'll need something of Willows.'

"Wesley said..."

"You know where Willow's room is."

"And again with the interrupting," Cordelia muttered. "What the emergency?"

"I don't know," Angel admitted. "At the moment I'm just thinking of a pre-emptive strike. Wes has to do the spell now."

"What sort of thing should I get?"

"I don't care what you get," Angel snapped. "Cordelia, just go up to Willow's room and pick something."

"All right. All right. We're on it."

"See you soon."

Cordelia made a face as she hung up the phone. "He wants you to do it now. I'll go and get something of Willow's. What sort of thing do you need?"

"Preferably something she won't mind going up in flames."

Cordelia smiled. "I get to burn the hideous crimes against fashion Willow claims are clothes? Things are looking up."

"Just one thing, Cordelia," Wesley said patiently.

Cordelia shrugged. "Got to start somewhere."

*

Angel let the phone drop into his lap and gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. He heard Lorne let out a relieved breath.

Lorne chose not to say anything; about Angel's driving, or about Spike. The worry and concern Angel was feeling was mirrored clearly on his face and it communicated itself to Lorne. He found himself wondering where Willow and Spike were, but he couldn't find it in him to worry about Willow. He still felt strongly that he was right; he usually was in matters of the heart. He was rather looking forward to Willow's memories returning and her and Spike getting together. Not that he wanted to do the whole "I told you so" thing to Angel, but it was always nice to be proven right.

Angel careened around the corner and Lorne let out a shout, throwing his other hand out and grabbing at Angel's arm. He'd never been so glad to see The Hyperion.

The car skidded to a halt in the driveway. "Spike's car is still here," Lorne pointed out.

"Doesn't mean anything."

Angel cut the engine and almost vaulted out of the car, running up the steps and disappearing into the hotel while Lorne got shakily out of the car at a much slower pace. He really hadn't been sure he was going to make it in one piece. He trotted up the steps and into the foyer, almost colliding with Angel who looked to be on his way out again, his face tense.

"We just got here," Lorne exclaimed, looking from Angel to the worried faces of the others. "What's happened?"

"The spell won't take," Wesley said. "I've tried twice. I can feel something happening, but it won't work. It just won't take."

"Why?" Lorne asked.

"I don't know," Wesley said.

"Where are you going?" Lorne asked Angel.

"I have to find Willow."

Gunn stepped forward. "Angel, man. You don't know where she is. Spike could be anywhere."

"I have to try," Angel pushed through the door busily trying to figure out where Spike would take Willow. Spike could be extremely predictable, but there were times when he was difficult to work out, and unfortunately, Angel felt this was one of those times. All he knew, deep in his bones, was that Spike was scheming.

Angel jumped down the steps and started, blinking in surprise. "Oh. You're here."

Spike was leaning against the Desoto, cigarette between his lips. He took a long drag, held the smoke in for a moment and then released it. "Yeah."

"I was about to go out looking for you." Angel glanced around, his eyebrows drawing together. "Where's Willow?"

Spike jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Back seat."

Angel listened carefully. "I can't hear her heart beat."

"She doesn't 'ave one anymore."

Angel went still. He was sure he could feel muscle and bone locking in place as shock rocketed through his system. "What did you do!"

"You know what I did. We could 'ave disappeared tonight. I didn't need to come see you, but I did. 'Cos you're Willow's friend an' she's got people who love her. An' you don't 'ave to worry about your sweetie either. Got no desire to put my girl in harms way. We won't be goin' to Sunnydale. You can tell her pals that we'll never return to Sunnydale, not even when the Slayer get's taken out of the game. They'll never 'ave to see Willow as anything other than what she was. You don't 'ave to worry about her, Angel. I'll take care of her."

"I knew," Angel hissed. "I knew you were up to something. I didn't think...I hoped... you did it. You actually did it. How could you do this to her? To Willow. It's Willow, Spike."

Spike took another drag, watching Angel through the haze of smoke. Angel's hands were balled into fists. Angel wanted to hurt him and he wanted to do it badly. But in typical Angel style he was keeping his temper in check.

"I know you, and everyone else come to that, don't think I'm good enough for her. But she's my girl. Weren't gonna lose her. You even think about killing her and I'll end you once an' for all,' Spike warned quietly. "There'll be no comin' back from where I send you."

Angel laughed shortly. "You knew we were getting closer to the spell and you were terrified we'd put Willow's memories back and she'd remember she didn't love you."

Spike scowled. "Not gonna lie, would 'ave preferred her to stay human a bit longer..."

"That's what you wanted," Angel said. "You wanted her as a human. You wanted her human warmth and love but you were afraid you'd never get it so you decided to settle for the next best thing."

"When she wakes it won't matter what she is," Spike snapped. "She'll just accept it as we did when we woke. Her life will change, like ours did. But her life will be different. She won't know a moment of cruelty. She won't struggle through humiliation, or mind numbing, muscle burning pain. She'll 'ave everything. She'll 'ave the world. She'll 'ave a life time of love."

Spike waved his arm at Angel, the end of his cigarette glowing softly. "I did what I had to do to keep her. It's nothing Darla didn't do to you, or you didn't do to Dru or Dru didn't do to me. It what everyone does, Angel. Vampire and human. We find someone to love and live a life with. Us vampires find someone to see eternity with."

"Pretty speech, Spike. Partly true. And a nice way to justify things to yourself."

"I don't need to justify anything. Darla did it for lust. You did it for cruelty. Dru did it out of need. Me, I did it for love. "

"Maybe. Partly," Angel conceded. He knew Spike and his capacity and need for love. "But you did it out of fear too. Because you were afraid the truth would take Willow away from you. You said so yourself." He gave another short laugh and shook his head. "For once in your life you could have had it all, Spike. You could have had exactly what you wanted. The spell Willow did, it was to repress the memories of loving you. She didn't think you'd love her and it broke her heart. Problem was, Willow was too emotional when she cast the spell, she couldn't get you out of her mind and the spell got tangled up and did the opposite of what she wanted."

Spike froze. He stared at Angel in complete disbelief. "No." His voice sounded rough and hoarse. "You're lying."

Angel strode towards him, pulling Willow's diary out of the inside pocket of his coat and slamming it into Spike's chest so hard that Spike jerked and dropped his cigarette.

"Willow's diary. It's all in there, according to Lorne. Every heartbreaking moment. It's not just me and Buffy and all the others who don't think you're good enough for her. You don't think it either, that's why you did it. You let your insecurities get the better of you. You let the past ruin the future."

Spike's hand came up to catch the diary. He held it tightly, his fingers making indents in the cover. His throat felt tight and his inside quivered with shock. That was the answer. That was why Willow remembered him. That was why she believed he was her husband and she loved him.

Love.

Willow had loved him.

Willow would still love him when she woke.

But it could have been so different. He really could have had it all; a good few years with human Willow, experiencing the world anew through her eyes and knowing how it felt to be loved for who he was by a human. And not just any human; one who was gentle, compassionate, strong and fiercely loving.

And then turn her and keep her forever.

Spike shook his head slowly. "Makes no difference in the long run. We'd still be right here. She'd still be waiting to wake. It's the only way to be together forever."

Angel shrugged. "Maybe not. Willow's a pretty powerful witch... sorry, was, a pretty powerful witch. She may have known a way to keep herself human. Guess you'll never know now. You don't have to worry about Willow, she's in no danger from me. You've ruined her life enough. Made her into something she'd never want to be."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do. And so do you. She never asked for this, did she? Even with her blind love for you the last few days, she didn't ask you to turn her, did she?"

"She's had other things on her mind. Doesn't mean she wouldn't 'ave asked. Doesn't mean she wouldn't 'ave wanted me to."

"No," Angel agreed. "It doesn't mean that. But it does speak volumes. Even though she didn't remember anything or anyone else, she still didn't ask."

"None of us asked for it," Spike reminded him. "And until you got a soul shoved up your arse you were happy enough being a vampire. Willow will be the same. We're all the same." He flashed a smile at Angel. "In case you're thinking of doin' the same to Willow..."

"I wasn't," Angel admitted. "I'm sure we could track down a witch or a coven who could perform the soul restoration, but I've come to the same conclusion you have. There's no point in it. Not when she loves you the way that she does."

Spike watched Angel walk away from him. He pushed Willow's diary into his pocket. She may not be human any more but it still belonged to her.

Angel turned once more, watching Spike open the door to the Desoto. "You've hurt Buffy more than anyone ever could, destroyed things at Sunnydale without even being there and ruined Willow's life; not bad for one nights work. Just go Spike."

Half in, half out of the car Spike scowled at Angel's back. "So I jumped the gun a bit, but bottom line, Willow loves me an' wants to be with me an' guess what, Angel? We can be together. Takin' a leaf out of the Slayer's book since she let Parker take a poke an' been rollin' in the hay with her farm boy commando. We don't 'ave to be miserable like you. Soul or no soul, I know how to be happy an' so does Willow." Spike paused for a moment. "Like I said, I'll take care of her."

Angel nodded. "I know you will."

That at least he could count on from Spike. He decided to ignore Spike's parting shot about Buffy. Buffy deserved some happiness and she was moving on with her life. It was the reason he had left her in the first place. Even if it did hurt to hear it.

Spike closed the door of the car, twisting to look at Willow asleep on the back seat. He leant through the seats to stroke her cheek. Things had probably turned out for the best really. As a human, Willow might not have been willing to leave Sunnydale to be with him and he couldn't stay there unchipped. Besides, it was too dangerous for her in Sunnydale sooner or later it might have been the end of the road for her. A shudder went down Spike's spine at the thought of a Willow-less world.

"Won't be long, love an' we'll start eternity together."

Angel watched the Desoto slipping the night. He wondered if he would see them again. He had the feeling Spike would never completely be out of his life; the world was small when you had eternity. He wondered how it would be seeing Willow as a vampire, how she would be under Spike's tutelage and unconditional love.

They were all waiting for him when he entered the foyer. Cordelia, Wesley, Fred, Gunn and Lorne, all clustered together at the bottom of the steps. He had the feeling they had been listening and he didn't need to tell them anything.

"Guess that explains why your spell didn't work," Gunn said to Wesley. "Willow wasn't alive anymore." .

"I don't think she'll mind. Willow I mean," Fred volunteered. "I think Spike was right about that. When she wakes up she'll accept the change in her because she won't quite be Willow any more, right?"

"Maybe," Wesley said.

"What happens now, Angel?" Cordelia asked quietly.

Angel closed his eyes for a minute. "I guess I'm going to have to tell Buffy." It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to and he knew he owed it to both Willow and Buffy to do it in person. The last thing he wanted to see was Buffy crumble. "How did this happen?"

Angel hadn't expected a response to his muttering's, but Lorne answered him.

"We’re always so busy looking for the demonic problems that we rarely stop to consider the problems might be closer to home. We’re so busy saving everyone else that we miss the signs when someone we love needs saving just as badly, like Willow. She was hurting and nobody noticed. We’re always on the look out for evil perhaps we should remember that love can be the most destructive force of all."

 

_Fin_


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